Thicker Than Water
by GeneralWildfire
Summary: Dean 38 reveals to Sam 34 that he has a daughter 13 and that a creature is after her, one that gives even Dean chills. How will they adapt to this newest addition, and what new things will come to light that they'll have to face? Rated M just to be on the safe side.
1. One: Dad Knows Best

**_I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters in it apart from the ones that come from my own imagination, and of course all errors are mine. Enjoy!_**

**_*Please note that I've only gotten about halfway through season six of Supernatural I also do not know how orphanages run things, so I apologize for any inaccuracies in that area.*_**

* * *

**One: Dad Knows Best**

A twenty-five year-old, Dean Winchester stretched as he woke up in a motel room somewhere in Ohio. It had been his first time hunting on his own, his father hunting somewhere in Nevada, but it had gone fairly well, having finished up far earlier than he planned, enjoying all the extra time he had with women that he met in the local bar.

Showering, and putting on his leather jacket and the necklace that Sam had given him as a Christmas present back when he was twelve, Dean made for the door, intent on getting some sort of pie for breakfast at the local convenience store. As he opened the door, Dean leapt back with a startled shout at what he found right outside on the doorstep. Poking his head out and peeking first to the left and then to the right, he looked down at the little baby that was, amazingly, still sound asleep.

Picking the baby up, feeling extremely uncomfortable, Dean found a note pinned to the blanket that the baby was swathed in. He frowned as he found only two words on the note:

She's yours

Flipping the note over and over again several times, Dean tried to think of what women could have possibly tracked him down to Ohio when he almost always gave out fake names, rarely giving out his real name to a woman, particularly if he was only going to have a one night stand with them.

Beyond perplexed, Dean shrugged, saying to the baby, "Well, hopefully your mother will come and get you when she remembers what an ass I am."

* * *

A week later, Dean was starting to freak out. No woman had come to his motel room door demanding that he'd give them back their baby and then proceeding to slap him for being an asshole. His father, John Winchester, was also starting to call him, wondering why he wasn't back yet, and Dean was worried that he'd soon be coming up to check on him to see if Dean had really taken care of his case like he said he had.

"Where is your mother?" Dean asked quietly as he rocked the baby girl, her eyes half-closed as she started to drift off to sleep. He'd given her a name, since calling a baby "Hey you" seemed quite wrong. "You know, Sara, I'm starting to get really worried that your mother truly left you for me to take care of." The baby girl's eyes were now closed, her breathing slower, signaling she was fast asleep.

"You'd better let me get some sleep tonight," Dean grumbled, having been awakened at various times of the late night and early morning. Setting Sara down in her makeshift crib, Dean left her in the living room area of the motel room, heading to his bedroom to change.

Pulling off his shirt, he paused, the shirt half-way over his head, his ears now straining for a sound that he knew shouldn't have been there in the motel room…the sound of an unnatural snarl. His senses straining, he finished pulling off his shirt when he heard the sound again…an unnatural snarl. Finding his .45 caliber Colt MK IV Series 80 1911 pistol, he cocked the weapon, and cautiously walked out towards the door of the motel bedroom. Listening right at the door, he heard Sara start to cry and he flung the door open, his eyes widening in horror at what he saw leaning over the baby's makeshift crib.

Seemingly to be made of fire and shadow, the thing was gripping the edges of the makeshift crib; it had no definitive form, seeming to appear part human, part something else.

Heart hammering in his chest, he fired at the thing, which let loose a squeal and turned towards him, glowing eyes narrowing in fury as it seemed to say aloud and in Dean's mind sounding vaguely female, "I'll return, hunter, Dean Winchester, and I'll make sure you feel the pain that I've felt!" It disappeared than, and Dean didn't want to think of how quickly it could possibly return.

Rushing towards Sara, he scooped her up in his arms, his heart still pounding furiously in his chest. He hadn't realized how much the child meant to him until he'd seen her in danger. Rocking the baby, trying to soothe her, he didn't feel safe in the motel room, and he started to pack his things, keeping Sara with him at all times, never letting her out of his sight.

Making several trips to the Impala, he swore as he realized that a cop would have a field day if they found him driving a car without having Sara in a proper child's safety seat. Dean got into the Impala, placing Sara on his lap, driving to the nearest place he could think of that had child safety seats…

* * *

In the store, Dean found a seat that he prayed would work for Sara, the baby still crying, which only stressed Dean out more.

A plan had started to form in his mind, although he wasn't sure it would work. Paying for the seat with a fake credit card, he got Sara strapped in and started driving, his mind racing, if I keep driving, that thing shouldn't be able to keep up with us… He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw glowing eyes instead of the backseat to the Impala and his heart leapt into his throat, as he braked, turning around in his seat, only to find Sara, still crying, but nothing near her.

His heart pounding once more, Dean jumped as he heard a whisper spoken aloud and apparently in his mind as well, "Run all you want, Dean Winchester. You can't escape me. You broke my heart and now I shall break yours by taking away what's become so important to you. You. Can't. Hide." The voice faded on the last word, and Dean gripped the steering wheel for dear life, his knuckles white, his plan had just been blown to pieces in a few short seconds.

Finally releasing the steering wheel, Dean cast an agonized look back at Sara, before he got out of the car, and unbuckled her from her car seat, holding her as he leaned against the Impala, trying to soothe her, but to no avail as the child kept crying.

Dean laughed bitterly, "I've gotten pretty attached to you in such a short amount of time, kiddo…and I don't even know if you're really my daughter…" He looked up at the sky, the sun setting, the various shades of oranges and pinks a drastic contrast to his raging emotions, a car drove past, a paper fluttering in the air as the car's wind stirred it, the sheet finally fluttering to a halt in front of Dean, who glanced down at it for a second. "Son of a bitch!" He finally muttered, moving the car seat to the front passenger's seat, strapping Sara in before he was driving down the highway, a new plan in his mind, although he didn't like it.

Driving all through the night, Dean stopped several times to get baby formula, diapers, and food for himself as he drove. At one of his many stops, a Wal-Mart, a piece of jewelry caught his eye as he tried to find where the heck they kept the baby items. Grabbing the piece of jewelry, along with the other items, he and Sara were back on the road once more. Dean's cell phone rang several times, but he didn't answer it, knowing all too well that it was his father.

* * *

Reaching Tupelo, Tennessee, Dean stopped the car in front of an orphanage called St. Nicholas' Orphanage. Getting out of the car and unbuckling Sara from her car seat, cutting off a small amount of her hair and putting it into an envelope, before he walked up to the doors of the imposing building. Before he could even knock, the doors were opened by a stout woman with graying black hair, and brown eyes.

"Can I help you?" she asked, before looking Dean up and down, taking in his appearance and the child in his arms. She sighed, "Follow me."

Dean obeyed, walking down the hallway after her until she reached an office door, opening it and leading the way inside. Looking around the office, Dean noted that it certainly looked kid friendly, not that that meant anything for what he had planned.

Dean started to say, "I'm here to…"

"Put your daughter up for adoption?" The woman finished for him, her gaze showing sadness, and a bit of anger as well. "You're not the first young man to do so, finding fatherhood to be more than you can handle.

You have no idea, Dean thought, before he said, trying to put on the charm, "Yes, I just thought she'd be…"

He was cut off once again, "Better off? There are many children in this country who are orphans Mr.…?"

"Winchester," Dean didn't offer up his first name.

The woman's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't ask if that was his real last name or not. Instead, she got up and walked over to a filing cabinet, pulling a large pile of papers off the top of it, "Fill out these papers to give up your custody of your daughter."

Dean started to fill out the papers, hating every second of it, but he forced himself not to fling it aside in frustration. It was for Sara's sake that he was doing this. He wrote her full name out on the form:

Sara Mary Winchester

He couldn't help smiling slightly when he wrote it, but he focused once more as he filled out the rest of the papers, making sure he checked a box that said, "Transfer to another orphanage if not adopted in a year's time."

Once he'd finished, he slid the stack of paper across the desk, and he watched as the woman's eyebrows rose slightly when she came to the one page with the "Transfer" box, but she didn't question his decision.

She finally said, "Your daughter will be well cared for, Mr. Winchester."

Dean nodded, glancing down at the child that had changed his life so much already. He suddenly started to wonder if he was really doing the right thing by putting her in an orphanage, unsure if she'd really be safe from whatever was after her.

Mistaking the look in his eyes for something else, the woman stood up and said, "I'll give you some time alone with her before you fully hand her over to us."

Partially glad to be alone with Sara, he held her close to his chest, gazing down at the child with her little fuzz of brown hair. Pulling out the piece of jewelry, a white gold chain necklace with a small, circular locket on it, the locket having an intricate design of a cross and heart, he placed it around Sara's neck. Knowing there was a small piece of paper in there with a message for her just in case he never saw her again.

Standing up, he walked out of the office, gently handing her over to the woman who ran the orphanage before he walked out of the place to his car, getting in and driving away, silently vowing, I'm not going to tell Dad or Sam about this unless absolutely necessary. Neither of them need to know about this…no one needs to know…this is my burden to bear… He glanced at the envelope that contained some of Sara's hairs and he knew the next time he was hunting on his own he'd find a way to get a DNA test.

* * *

-Thirteen years later…

Sam Winchester glowered out the front passenger's window of the Impala, ticked off at Dean while still trying to figure out how the heck all of this could have happened without him, Bobby, or their father finding out. He had to admit that Dean had kept his secret well, up until recently, when Dean had become agitated, wanting to go to Greenville, Maine, even though they had been working a case in Michigan, Sam had found it hard to believe, at the time, that Dean had wanted to abandon a case so easily, along with how much convincing it took for him to get Dean to finish the case before going to Maine.

"I still can't believe you have a kid," Sam finally said, glaring at his brother.

Dean glanced at him, the sun hitting his brown hair, exaggerating the gray hairs that were starting to appear in it, "Believe it, Sammy."

Sam scowled at Dean as he continued, "And you couldn't tell Dad, Bobby, or me?"

"Look!" Dean snapped, aggravated now, having had to deal with Sam griping almost all the way from North Dakota. He was starting to miss the silent treatment he'd received when they'd first left the state. "None of you needed to know about it at the time. It was safer for her if nobody but me knew about her."

"But you didn't know where she was until recently," Sam said quietly.

Dean nodded, his gaze unreadable now as he commented, "Yeah, thanks to that demon, or whatever it is letting me know that it found her."

Sam didn't bother trying to get more information on this strange creature from Dean; it was obvious that it freaked his brother out though. "You did get a DNA test though?"

"Yep," Dean said, staring out the windshield and not looking at Sam.

Sam sighed, "And you still won't say what the results were?"

"Nope," Dean said, turning on the radio then, and sticking in a cassette tape, playing one of his many classic rock bands. Sam couldn't tell them apart and he'd given up guessing long ago. The music also signified that the conversation was over.

Watching the scenery roll by, Sam glanced at Dean who was silently singing along with whatever song was playing, As if I couldn't guess what the results of the DNA test were...

Dean wasn't really singing along with the song, his mind on Sara. He'd been hoping he'd find her safe and sound in Maine ever since the strange fire and shadow creature had come to him in a dream, crowing with triumph that it had found her. Now his thoughts were on different things, what does she look like now? Has she found the note I left her in the locket? Does she even still HAVE it? Will she know who I am when she sees me? What the hell am I going to say to her? For that matter…what the hell am I going to do with her once I get her out of that orphanage?

* * *

Sara Winchester sat in her room at the St. Nicholas Orphanage in Greenville, Maine, having faked being sick so she wouldn't have to go to school. The thirteen year-old had been severely freaked out the previous day when she'd felt like she was being watched as she walked from the school back to the orphanage. She was lucky that the head of the orphanage had allowed her to stay, Sara having a record for faking sick and skipping school, but something in her green eyes had convinced the head that she should get to stay at the orphanage that day.

At least it's Friday, she thought, running a hand through her medium length, brown hair before tying it into a "bottlebrush" ponytail. I still don't like the feeling I keep getting… Sara glanced around her room, but she couldn't see anything that would be giving her the feeling of being watched. Pushing herself off the bed, Sara headed out of her room and outside, knowing that the other orphans would be back from school and eager to play some sort of game outside. As she walked down the hallway towards the doors that led outside, she gripped the circular locket that she'd had for as long as she could remember, one of the many heads of all the different orphanages she'd been to had told her that her father had given it to her, and she treasured it, since it was her only connection to any person that had cared for her, even if her father hadn't cared for her enough to keep her.

As she gripped the locket, she started to relax. I'm probably imagining all of this… Sara thought as she pushed open the doors, glad to see some of the other kids that were her age were back from school, starting up a game of tag. Jogging over to them, she was just in time to hear who was "it" before she took off running along with the other kids that were playing, enjoying the fresh air.

The person who was it decided that he could catch Sara and made a beeline towards her, and Sara ran towards the street, though she slowed, puzzled as a sweet looking old, black car pulled up with two people in it. Her speed decreased even further as she watched two men get out of the car. Wow! Aren't they good-looking?

"You're it!" the boy who had been it said as he tagged her triumphantly. Unable to truly blame her lapse in focus on the two hot guys, she whipped around and tried to tag someone, temporarily forgetting the two men.

* * *

Dean walked down the hallway of the orphanage, managing to find the office and knocking of the door.

"Come in," the reply came from inside.

Pushing the door open, Dean walked in followed closely by Sam. A blond haired woman with movie star, blue eyes sat behind the desk, and she glanced up when Dean and Sam entered, "How can I help you gentlemen?"

"I'm looking for my daughter, who I believed has been transferred here," Dean stated, cutting right to the chase, even though the woman was hot, he just wasn't in a flirting mood, amazingly.

Surprise showed in the woman's eyes, but not in her expression or tone as she asked, "Name please?"

"Dean Winchester," he answered.

She gestured to the two chairs in front of the desk, "Have a seat please while I look through the files."

The brothers sat down, though Dean couldn't keep still, his right leg bouncing, the only visible sign of his anxiety.

The woman pulled out a file and skimmed it, before she asked, "You said your name is Dean Winchester, correct?" Dean nodded. "Where did you drop off your daughter at, Mr. Winchester?"

"In Tupelo, Tennessee, thirteen years ago" he answered.

Sam couldn't believe that his brother had remembered that, Dean hardly being able to remember Latin, which was fairly important in their line of work.

"Hmmm…" the woman frowned, looking at Dean. "If you'll wait here for a minute while I get Mrs. Hersfield…" Without waiting for a response, she left them in the office. They could hear her heels clicking down the hall.

Sam glanced at Dean, "Are you sure this is the right place?"

"Yes, this orphanage only transfers with those within its sister branches, or basically all the St. Nicholas' orphanages in the country." Dean stated.

Sam shook his head, amazed at the information his brother could retain when he wanted to retain it. "Have you figured out what you're going to do with her once you've gotten her out of here?"

"Nope," Dean answered.

Sam was frowning once more, "Are you going to tell her what we do for a living?"

"Not sure yet."

Now Sam was starting to get frustrated with his older brother, "What about the fact that you're her father?"

"Not sure yet."

Annoyed, Sam managed to keep his temper in check, reminding himself that Dean was nervous and therefore was going to act like an asshole, "Have you thought of any of these things?"

"Believe it or not, Sammy, I have," Dean said, his tone laced with fury. Sam was pushing one too many of his buttons at the moment.

Before things could get out of hand, they heard heels clacking down the hallway towards them; shooting final glares at each other, they were acting as if nothing had transpired between them when the blond and Mrs. Hersfield entered the room.

Mrs. Hersfield walked to the desk, looking at the file through her glasses, her black locks hanging down as she skimmed over it. Snapping it shut, she turned her petite frame to face Dean and Sam. "You're Dean Winchester?" She questioned, sounding skeptical.

"Yes," Dean said, trying to hide how nervous he was.

Mrs. Hersfield glanced at the file once more, before she asked, "Do you have any forms of identification?"

"Yeah," Dean said, hurriedly pulling out his driver's license.

Mrs. Hersfield scrutinized his license before handing it back, "You have to understand, Mr. Winchester, why we're worried about you taking your daughter back. She has spent thirteen years in orphanages, always getting transferred to another after a years time. Several families did consider her, but they opted for other children. You left her here once, Mr. Winchester…what would stop you from doing it again? We here at St. Nicholas' care about all the children in our care, and I don't want to see that child get hurt."

Sam kept his poker face on, though he was silently agreeing with Mrs. Hersfield, he's not even sure what he's going to do with her once she's out of this orphanage!

"I know that I gave my daughter up once, but I was young and I wasn't ready to have a kid," Dean said, thinking quickly. "I've regretted my choice ever since I left her in Tupelo, and I want a chance to get to know her and to give her a chance to get to know me."

Dean started to sweat as Mrs. Hersfield scrutinized him for several long minutes, her gaze hard as steel.

"You have a lot of paperwork to fill out," she finally said, turning to the filing cabinet.

* * *

Nervousness clashed with excitement as Sara packed her bags, having been told by Mrs. Hersfield that she'd been adopted, though the head of the orphanage wouldn't say by whom. Not that it matters, Sara thought, zipping closed her last bag. As long as they're nice, I don't care who they are! She recalled the two guys that had gotten out of the old, black car, but she'd seen them leave just as she and the other children were called in to eat dinner. They must not have found the right kid… Slinging two of her bags over her shoulders she started to head towards the doors leading outside.

She paused just in front of the doors, taking in a deep breath. Mrs. Hersfield had told her that her new family would be outside the doors waiting for her, just before the head of the orphanage had bid her goodbye and good luck.

Pushing open the doors, she walked outside, coming to a halt as she saw the two guys with the old, black car, standing in the walkway that led up to the doors. Okay, so the amazingly hot guys adopted you, no big deal, you'll adjust. Sara walked towards them, taking in the taller of the two, whose brown hair was longer than the shorter guy's, giving him a shaggy look, his puppy dog brown eyes were serious, and he didn't look like the kind of guy that liked to joke around.

The shorter one's hair style suited him well, being cut short, but spiked slightly. His green eyes showed that he could be serious when he wanted to be, but that he wasn't opposed to a good joke either. The half-smile on his face gave that away as well.

She met his gaze, green eyes meeting green eyes and her mind started to race, his eyes…they're a lot like mine…or is it that mine are a lot like his…? Does that mean…?

* * *

As soon as the doors opened, Dean had only eyes for his daughter, he vaguely registered that Sam had said something to him just before the doors opened, but he couldn't remember what it was.

He had expected her to be older, of course, but it still didn't stop him from being surprised at how much she'd grown. Pleasure welled up inside him as he caught a glint of white gold, and he knew it had to be the necklace he'd given her. Dean smiled a bit, unable to keep his joy at seeing Sara after thirteen years in.

Sam sighed, knowing he'd lost his brother as soon as the doors opened. He tried not to gawk at how much the young girl resembled Dean from the color of her hair, her facial features, and even her eyes. There were only slight differences between the pair's facial features, giving Sara quite a pretty face, and their builds were similar, both stocky in frame. There's no denying that she's his daughter. If he told me now that the DNA test proved that she wasn't, I'd tell him to get another one!

A silence spanned between the group for several long seconds, all of them trying to determine what the other was like. Dean, being Dean, finally broke the silence, "Hey kiddo, how are you doing?"

"Um…good?" Sara didn't look sure of how to answer. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but why did you adopt me if you don't even know me?"

Sam silently prayed that Dean wouldn't be his usual, blunt self. Sara would need time to adjust to the fact that Dean was her father and that he was her uncle.

Dean chuckled nervously, and said, "I'm your father."

Sara's eyes widened in shock, her mind reeling, him? He-he can't be my father! I never pictured him looking like-like… Her cheeks flushed red with sudden embarrassment, great! I thought my own father was hot…!

And Dean was his usual self, Sam thought, fighting back a sigh of disbelief.

"This stick-in-the-mud is your uncle, Sam," Dean continued, gesturing at Sam.

Glaring at Dean, Sam said, "It's nice to finally meet you, Sara."

And I thought my uncle was hot too…perfect… Sara's cheeks got even redder, if that was even possible. In an attempt to distract them from her scarlet cheeks, she asked, "Why did you leave me at an orphanage?"

"I'll tell you once we're in the car," Dean stated. Walking forward and grabbing the bag that she had slung over her left shoulder, "Come on."

As she followed her father, Sam came up to her, "Why don't I carry your other bag? It looks pretty heavy."

"No, I'm okay," she said, following her father to the back of the car.

Sam sighed, but he didn't push the matter, walking towards the front passenger door of the car.

Dean had opened the trunk, moving some of the stuff in there around, making room for her bags. Putting the one he'd carried in the trunk.

Sara frowned as she noticed that the trunk seemed shallow, and she caught sight of a latch, "Is that a latch there?"

"Yeah," her father said, not elaborating on what it was for as he grabbed her other bag from her.

Curiosity got the better of her nervousness, "What's it for?"

"I'll tell you in a bit," Dean stated, closing the trunk.

"Oh…okay," Sara said, looking perplexed, but not questioning him any further as she got into the back seat of the car, she didn't want her father to think that she was annoying.

Sam said, keeping his voice low as he looked at his brother over the roof of the car, "Dean, what do you mean you'll tell her in a bit?"

"I'm going to tell her what we do," Dean stated simply, getting into the car.

Sam sighed, "Great." He got into the car as well as Dean started the Impala up.

Sara was looking around the car curiously, taking in every detail. As Dean pulled it away from the curb, she asked, "What type of car is this?"

"A 1967 Chevy Impala," Dean answered.

Sara smiled, looking around the car once again, "It's awesome!"

Dean grinned, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror, "That it is, kiddo."

She looked away from the mirror, having been looking at it, still unsure of how to act around her father, but she asked, "You said that you'd tell me why you left me at the orphanage…"

"I know I did," Dean said, focusing on the road once more. "There are some things you need to know about your uncle and I first though."

She waited for her father to elaborate, but he didn't say any more. Glancing hopefully at her uncle, she noticed Sam giving her father a dirty look before he said, turning a bit in his seat to face her, "Your dad and I travel a lot for our job. We…" Sam tried to find the word he was looking for so as not to scare his niece.

"We hunt the things that go bump in the night," Dean said.

Sara laughed, "So you hunt, what, the Boogie Man?"

"We haven't run into him yet," Dean stated his tone serious.

She looked from her father, to her uncle, "You hunt the paranormal?"

"Or supernatural, whichever you want to call them," Dean said.

Sara's mind was working overtime, recalling the feeling of being watched at the orphanage, "So that was it…"

Dean's tone sharpened, "What was what?"

"I-I had a feeling I was being watched," Sara said quickly, her father's tone surprising her. "I never actually saw anything…"

Sam glanced at his brother, and upon seeing the panicked look in his eyes, he said, trying to reassure them both, "Maybe you were near a high electromagnetic field, that's been known to give people feelings of being watched."

"Maybe…" Sara said, not looking convinced.

Dean changed the subject then, "Being a hunter and all, I couldn't take care of you at the time, not to mention being only twenty-five when you were dropped off on my doorstep."

"What about now?" She asked.

Dean answered, "I feel comfortable taking you along, taking care of you."

Sam gave Dean a sharp glance, knowing that Dean had taken her out of the orphanage for another reason, not just based on how comfortable he was in his own ability to take care of her. Casting a quick glance back at his niece, he saw that she bought Dean's story.

The curious thirteen-year-old asked, "Where are we going?"

"Not sure yet," Dean answered, glancing Sam's way. "Your uncle and I haven't decided on where we're hunting yet. We'll be stopping somewhere for the night, though."

Sara nodded, and a silence settled in the car for quite a while, no one willing to break it with small talk. The tension in the car could be cut with a knife, and the thirteen-year-old tried to gauge what type of people her father and uncle were, but since they weren't talking, it was kind of hard to do so.

Finally, she broke the silence, "Will I be hunting with you, or will you drop me off somewhere…" Not exactly sure she wanted to hear the answer to her question, she waited with bated breath.

"I'm not sure yet," Dean answered honestly, looking in the rearview mirror at his daughter. "It will depend upon a few things."

"Like what?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Dean smirked, "Like whether or not you can shoot a gun."

"You're going to let a thirteen-year-old fire a gun?" Sam questioned with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Dean asked. "Dad took me out shooting for the first time when I was six or seven."

Sam shook his head, "Forget it."

Still assuming that what her father said he did for a living was a joke, she asked, jokingly, "So I need to know how to shoot a gun to hunt monsters?"

"Yep," Dean said, pulling the Impala off the road and into a grassy clearing. "This looks like a good spot to see what you've got." Turning off the car, he got out.

Surprised that he'd actually parked the car, Sara followed her father, getting out of the car and following him to the trunk, and she heard Sam come out of the car as well.

Dean moved the bags in the trunk out of the way before lifting the bottom of the trunk, revealing an arsenal of weapons from guns, to knives, to even some crossbows among other things.

"Dean," Sam murmured, attempting to get his brother's attention.

While inspecting several different guns, Dean asked casually, "What?"

"Don't you think that you could have told her what was in the trunk instead of just flinging it open like that?" Sam asked.

"Why?" Dean asked, glancing back at his daughter, who was gawking at the amount of weapons in the car. "Okay, I see your point, but it's too late now."

Sam cast him an exasperated look, "Just try to keep in mind that she doesn't know anything about this life, and right now, she's probably thinking that you and I are either psycho-paths or serial killers."

"Do you think we're serial killers?" Dean asked, raising his voice so his daughter could hear him from where she stood.

I don't know what to think… She thought, but she answered, "No, sir."

"See, Sammy?" Dean said, smiling as he closed the trunk, a shotgun under his arm, a pistol in hand, and a bag of cans and bottles in the other, "She's a smart kid."

Sara felt unexpectedly warm at her father's words, fighting back the urge to smile as she followed him into the clearing, while Sam followed behind the two more slowly, frowning at Dean's back.

Pausing in the clearing, Dean muttered to himself, "How do I want to do this…?" He grinned as he spotted a log lying in the clearing. "Stay here," Dean ordered his daughter, walking over to the log and setting the guns carefully on it before he set up a row of bottles and cans as targets.

Sara obeyed her father, watching him with a fascinated gaze as he set up the bottles and cans before he walked back over to her. She couldn't help trying to identify what traits they shared, pleased at finding that she did seem to resemble him.

"Do you want to learn how to shoot a gun?" her uncle asked quietly while Dean was still setting up the bottles and cans.

Sara thought about it for a second, before nodding, "It could be a useful thing to learn."

"And it will be," Dean said as he reached them, having only heard his daughter's comment, missing Sam's question to her. "Now, I want you to understand, I don't ever want to see you carelessly tossing these on the ground, or trying to show off by twirling them. These are weapons and they're deadly. You need to treat them with respect and with a bit of fear." His tone kept Sara riveted on his words, as he continued, starting to show her the basics of the guns, starting with the shotgun, "This is the safety, always keep it on when you're not using it, this is obviously the trigger, and here's the trigger guard. You've got the sight up here, and the fore stock, which you need to pump before firing." He moved onto the pistol, going over the similar parts, leaving out the fore stock of course.

Sam noticed that Sara looked a bit overwhelmed at all this new information, but before he could say anything, Dean handed Sam the pistol, keeping the shotgun as he said, "I'm going to show you how to fire both of these, then I want you to try." Pumping the fore stock, Dean took aim at one of the cans, turning off the safety before he fired the gun, the bullet hitting the can he'd been aiming at dead center.

Putting the safety back on, Dean handed Sam the shotgun taking the pistol and took aim once more, turning off the safety before he pulled the trigger, once again hitting his target dead center.

Turning the safety on once more, Dean asked, looking down at his daughter, "Ready to try and hit those targets down there?"

"Yeah," Sara said, though her eyes were wide from seeing how accurately her father had hit the two cans.

Sam handed her the shotgun when Dean motioned for him to do so, "They both are going to have a recoil, or kickback, so be careful, especially with this shotgun."

Nodding, Sara carefully took the gun from her uncle, nervous at handling the weapon and of her father, who she knew was watching her every move.

She turned off the safety first, since she wasn't familiar with the weapon and knew she wouldn't be able to find it when she'd taken aim, and she cast a worried glance at her father, who showed no reaction to this. Relieved slightly, she pumped the fore stock, took aim with the shotgun, finding her target with the sight before she fired. Her eyes widened in surprise as the can she'd been aiming at took the hit dead center, her shoulder stung from the recoil of the weapon, but her excitement overtook any thought of pain. Pumping the fore stock, she took aim once more and fired, this time the bottle she'd been aiming was hit, and she preceded down the row of targets, only missing two, the process getting easier as she adjusted to the weapon.

Fighting to keep a grin off his face, Dean walked over to the log once he was certain that Sara had the safety on the shotgun turned back on. Examining the cans he couldn't stop himself from grinning. His daughter was a pretty good shot. Grabbing the bag of bottles and cans, he set up new ones, collecting the ones that he and Sara had already hit.

Sara asked Sam while Dean reset the targets, "Did I do all right?" She was still worried that her father had been upset when she'd turned off the safety first.

"Yeah, that was great," Sam said, still overcoming his own awe over his niece's talent with a shotgun. Dean and I had best watch out if she has similar results with the pistol! Then again, it'll put both our minds at ease knowing that we won't have to always be watching out for her if Dean does decide to let her hunt with us…

Sara didn't disappoint them; it was obvious that she liked the pistol more as she turned off the safety, took aim and fired, taking out all of the targets this time around.

"That's my girl!" Dean said proudly, ruffling her hair as he walked past to collect the targets.

Beaming from her father's praise, she carefully handed the gun to her uncle before walking over to help her father pick up the cans and bottles.

Dean glanced up from where he was stooping down to pick up a can, "You know I'm relieved that you're such a natural…" When he spotted his daughter's confused gaze as she picked up a bottle he elaborated, "It means I can count on you to watch our backs if necessary."

"Does this mean I'm going to be hunting with you?" Sara asked, though she still felt a bit skeptical about the whole "hunting" thing.

Dean picked up another can, "Sort of." He straightened up, frowning slightly, "I don't really want to put you in danger…but I don't exactly want to leave you alone while Sammy and I hunt either…" He stooped down once more, picking up a bottle.

In the way that kids tended to be, Sara said quietly as she picked up another bottle, "I'm really glad that you came back for me, Dad."

Taken completely off guard by his daughter's statement, Dean was temporarily stunned, and it showed. Once he recovered, he smiled at Sara as he said, "I'm glad I did too."

Sam watched the pair, and he could easily hear what they were saying, since neither one of them was very quiet. He was just as surprised as Dean when Sara spoke. A frown came upon his features as he heard Dean's answer though, I can't tell if he means that or not…

* * *

They were back on the road again before long, but the silence wasn't as present this time in the Impala, Sara having unwittingly broken the ice with her father by calling him "Dad". The relaxed air in the car even affected Sam, who chatted with Sara as well.

"So…" Dean said; ready to start the conversation off, "Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?"

"Like what?" Sara asked, unsure of what her father would want to know about her.

Dean was as uncertain as his daughter, though he tried not to let it show, "Um…favorite color, foods…um…hobbies…?" He gazed at his younger brother for help.

"Favorite subjects in school, favorite TV shows, movies, books, maybe even ask us some questions," Sam finished, not letting Dean down.

"Okay," Sara said, trying to think of what to start with. "Well, my favorite color is blue…um…my favorite food is pie…" She paused as Sam released a slight moan and Dean tried to stifle a snicker of laughter. "I guess for hobbies I like to read and draw…school I really like P.E., and English, I hate math!"

Dean chimed in then, "Same here, kiddo. We'll let Sammy have all the fun with numbers, right?"

"Right!" She said, laughing a bit. Sam just rolled his eyes. "We really didn't have time to watch TV in the orphanage, or a lot of access to one…I haven't seen any movies." Dean looked aghast at this news, as did Sam. "I really like reading books on mythology and lore," she finished.

Sam said, "That will come in handy, since we sometimes have to deal with creatures from legends."

"Really?" Sara asked, eyes bright with interest. "Like what?"

"Paegan gods, some creatures like werewolves and vampires," Sam answered.

Sara looked really interested, "Neat!"

"More like a pain," Dean said in a harsh tone. "Remember, we're hunting them since they kill people."

"Right," Sara said, abashed.

That was a good way to ruin the mood, Sam thought, shooting Dean an exasperated look.

Dean tried to make up for the harshness of his tone, "You won't have to worry about not having pie a lot, it's my favorite food as well." He was pleased to see that his daughter perked up after that. He continued, "I'll have to rent some movies for us to watch as well." His next statement was directed at Sam, "What kid doesn't get a chance to watch movies?"

"Apparently not this one," Sam stated.

Dean chuckled, "Definitely have to fix that." Another smile crossed his features as he heard his daughter giggle. "Maybe tonight we'll try to watch a movie or something."

"That sounds good, Dad," Sara said, trying to get used to the word, as well as liking the sound of it as she addressed her father.

Sam glanced at Dean, and tried to hide his smirk as he noticed Dean's ecstatic expression. This was one of those moments where Dean was very easy to read, other times Sam would be lucky if he could guess if Dean was in a good mood or a foul one. Spotting a decent looking motel, Sam suggested, "Why don't we stop there for the night? Figure out where we're heading next, and possibly relax for a bit."

"Sounds good," Dean said, turning into the motel parking lot and parking the Impala before turning off the engine. "Sammy, why don't you go get us a room and Sara and I will bring in the bags."

"All right," Sam said, giving a knowing smile as he got out of the car. Dean merely rolled his eyes as he got out.

Sara got out of the car as well and walked to the back of the car, her father already starting to grab the bags out of trunk, shouldering most of the bags, handing Sara the remaining few. "I can carry a few more," she said feeling bad that she only had the few bags, which weren't that heavy.

"I've got these," Dean said, closing the trunk and heading towards Sam, who was walking out of the main building, holding the keys to one of the small housing facilities. Sam unlocked the door to number seventeen and led the way into the blue room, everything from the walls, to the curtains, to the furniture was in various shades of blue.

"Cool," Dean said, grinning.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's bad joke, "Yeah. It's the only place they have with three beds along with a shower."

"Now that sounds good," Dean said as he set down the bags. "It'll be nice to have a hot shower…this place does have hot water, right?"

Sam rolled his eyes again, "Yeah, Dean. This is a step-up from where we usually stay."

"So you don't usually stay at places like this?" Sara asked.

"Uh…" Sam knew he fully deserved the exasperated look Dean gave him. "It depends on what we can find. Places like this are usually booked so we have to settle for…well…less."

Sara didn't seem too troubled by this as she set the bags she'd been carrying down, as long as I'm not in an orphanage, we could sleep outside for all I care!

Taking Sara's silence to mean something else, Dean said, "It's a rough life, but if we didn't do it…well…let's just say there'd be less happy endings in the world."

Deciding that silence was still the best way to go as she sat on the bed, Sara merely nodded at what her father said. Feeling uncomfortable, Dean decided to flee temporarily, "I'm going to go to the local Blockbuster and see if I can rent a couple good movies to watch tonight!" He didn't waste any time in exiting the room.

Chuckling, Sam looked at his niece, "You know, I haven't seen him that uncomfortable in several months at least."

"Is that a bad thing?" Sara asked worriedly, not wanting to make either of them feel uncomfortable around her, especially if they truly were related. She didn't have many doubts about this fact, and the doubts she had weren't that bad…or at least not to her…not yet.

Sam smiled, "No. It's not a bad thing. It means he cares enough about you that he doesn't want to screw up."

"Oh," was all Sara could come up with. Sam just laughed. After a few seconds of silence, Sara asked, "So what do you and my dad really do?"

"We hunt monsters, ghosts, demons," Sam met her skeptical gaze, "Look I know it all sounds crazy, but it's what we really do for a living. It's not exactly a good living, but it's a living."

Sara rolled her eyes, "Right."

"You'll see," Sam said with a smirk. "I think your dad plans on taking you with us, though I wish he wouldn't." He tried not to let his expression give away his thoughts, it's going to take a while for me to get used to referring to Dean as her dad…

Sara frowned, "Why?"

"It can get dangerous," Sam explained. "And you and me. We're your dad's weakness." Still having trouble saying that, Sam added as an afterthought.

"Because we're family," Sara stated.

Sam nodded, "Yeah…family means a lot to your dad and me. More than you'll probably ever realize."

A bit confused by that statement, Sara frowned, "I've been in a lot of orphanages for all of my life up until this point…" She couldn't finish what she wanted to say, I don't think you guys realize how much you already mean to me… Noticing that her uncle was waiting for her to finish, she randomly changed the subject, "So…Uncle Sam-my," There is no way I'm calling him Uncle Sam! "What movies do you think my dad will get?"

I never thought I'd be so happy to hear someone other than my dad or Dean call me Sammy, Sam thought before answering, "Well…with Dean…it can be anything really...depending on his mood."

"I take it my dad's a moody guy?" Sara questioned.

Sam gave a half-hearted smile, "It's not that he's…moody…It's just that he-he's kind of hard to read." His niece gave him such a confused look that he elaborated, "What I mean is, Dean doesn't show his emotions. It's hard to gauge what mood he's in unless you've known him a long time, and even then it can be hard."

"Right," Sara wasn't exactly reassured and it showed in her voice.

Sam tried to reassure her, "Look, I'm not trying to scare you or make you overly cautious with Dean, it's just that I think you should know."

Sara nodded, not reassured in the slightest.

Before an awkward silence could really set in, Dean walked in grinning widely like he'd just won the lotto, "Got to love good, old-fashioned Blockbusters!"

"I take it you found some good movies?" Sam asked.

Dean threw him the bag of DVDs, "Man did I ever!"

"Dracula, Frankenstein, Young Frankenstein," Sam looked up at Dean incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not in the slightest!" Dean said still smiling. He turned to Sara, "So, Kiddo, what do you want to watch first?"

Sam handed the bag of old time movies over to her and she looked each one over. Even if she'd never really had the pleasure of watching movies often or much access to a TV she could still tell the movies her father picked were old. "Um…what about this one?" she hazarded a random pick and happened to grab Young Frankenstein.

"Ah, now that's a good first choice," Dean said, nodding in approval. "Gene Wilder, what an actor. You'll be laughing throughout the whole thing!"

* * *

Sure enough, Sara did laugh, though not throughout the whole thing, unlike her father and uncle. She didn't understand some of the lines they laughed at though, and sometimes it was nervous laughter from her uncle, though she couldn't understand why. From Young Frankenstein they moved on to the other movies. The poor girl got scared out of her wits and she couldn't fathom how her father and uncle could laugh; it seemed so wrong to her.

When the last movie finished, Dean said without a second thought, "All right, time to hit the hay, Kiddo."

"What?" Sara couldn't keep the squeak of fear out of her voice.

Dean gave his daughter a reassuring smile, "You shouldn't be scared of those monsters, because if they were real I'd kick their asses." He winked at her, and she gave him a timid smile. "Get ready for bed, go on."

Once Sara was in the bathroom and Sam could hear the shower running, he asked Dean quietly, "Why didn't you tell her the real reason you came back for her?"

"She doesn't need to know," Dean said, not meeting his brother's gaze as he put the DVDs back in the bag to take back tomorrow when they left.

Sam looked incredulous, "You tell her what we do for a living, you have her shoot GUNS, and you don't think that she has a right to know that some sort of demon is after her?"

"I want her to feel safe, all right?" Dean snapped, facing Sam. "I can't keep what we do from her a secret, I can't drop her off somewhere, she HAS to stay with us! But I can-I can let her go to bed feeling safe at night and not trying to sleep wondering when some crazy ass demon is going to show up and try to kill her!" He took a shuddering breath to calm himself down as he turned away from Sam.

Sam stared at his brother's back in surprise, "You want her to feel safe when she sleeps…?"

"Yes, is that a problem?" Dean demanded, though he didn't turn to face Sam.

"Dean…" Sam said, "She's going to learn that monsters, demons…everything that most kids think are fake or just stories are real…do you really think she'll feel safe then?"

"Yes, I do," Dean said, turning to face Sam once more.

Sam couldn't believe his brother, "How…?"

"Because she'll see that I won't let anything harm her," Dean stated. "Neither of us will, and she'll learn that."

"Dean…" Sam really didn't want to ruin his brother's plan, but it was just so flawed. "We aren't always going to be there to protect her. There may come a time when we can't come running to her rescue."

"No there won't," Dean said quietly, his gaze intense.

Sighing, Sam shook his head, "You need to be realistic here…"

"I am being realistic," Dean snapped once more. "I'm not going to let her down again."

"Again?" Sam asked quietly before realization struck him. "Dean, you were twenty-five and you just finished your first hunt, there was no way you could have kept her with you, besides the fact that Dad would have been pissed and made you take her to an orphanage anyway!"

"I should have done more," Dean murmured. "It wasn't fair to her."

Sam was now getting annoyed with Dean's pity party, "Dean, there is nothing that you could have done better! Just accept that fact and move on!"

* * *

While in the shower, Sara could have sworn she heard her father and uncle's voices raised in anger along with a few other sounds, but she ignored them, lost in her own thoughts, some of her doubts about her father and uncle's real identities starting to come back to the surface.

So maybe they are serial killers and want me to join the "family business"…I mean the bloodied stakes, all those guns and knives…there's no way monsters are real! She thought, though a part of her truly wanted to believe that they hadn't lied to her yet. Common sense was telling her otherwise. Turning off the shower, she grabbed a towel and started to dry herself off, fighting back the tears that had risen to her eyes, just once…just once in my life I want to be happy and not have to question it! With a vicious throw, the towel hit the wall. Luckily it was only a towel that didn't make much noise as it hit the wall and then the floor.

* * *

Dean was rubbing his, now sore, jaw while Sam had a hand over his right eye, both of them having gotten a swing in at the other.

As she walked out of the bathroom in her PJs, Sara noted how they were, but she decided not to mention it, thinking it'd be safer for her not to say anything. As she crawled into one of the bed's Sam headed into the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "Night."

"Night," she said.

Getting her blankets situated, she noticed her father looking at her, when he caught her gaze he said quietly, "Night, Kiddo."

"Night, Dad," she said, feeling a bit uncomfortable as she rolled over, her back to Dean, though she could feel his gaze on her back. She managed to argue to herself so that she could fall asleep, he hasn't seen me in several years…he wouldn't hurt me…I don't think… With these thoughts running through her head, she didn't fall asleep until she heard Sam exit the bathroom and heard Dean enter.

* * *

Sitting at the edge of his bed, Dean was terrified to take his eyes off his daughter for a second. Even though he assumed that the demon-or whatever it was-wouldn't enter the room, he was still afraid that it would, and that it would kill her.

When Sam finally exited the bathroom, he took one look at Dean and decided he'd have to watch his niece, regardless of how foolish it seemed to him, it was obvious that Dean wouldn't take care of himself if he thought she was in danger. Touching his brother's shoulder, Sam sat on the edge of the bed, watching his niece and Dean merely stood up and walked into the bathroom. No words were needed between the pair.

* * *

"You know it just occurred to me," Sam said as Dean exited the bathroom, a towel hanging on his shoulders.

Dean threw the towel back into the bathroom, "What?"

"When we had to take care of that shape shifter baby, you lied about how you knew how to change a diaper," Sam stated.

"I didn't lie," Dean countered as he pulled on his shirt, "Lisa really does have a sister who has a niece that I helped to take care of. I just merely…" He paused trying to find the word he wanted, "Tweaked the truth a bit."

Sam gave a forced smile and a chuckle, "When I think of all the things you said and how true or false they were." He shook his head.

"Oh, like you or dad never kept any secrets!" Dean said in a fierce whisper, not wanting to wake his daughter.

"Not like this…well…I never did anyway!" Sam snapped in a whisper, remembering that his niece was sleeping. "Dad kept Adam a secret though, are you trying to be like him?"

Sam knew he'd gone too far as soon as the words left his mouth. Eyes blazing with contained fury, and jaw clenched; it was obvious that Dean was exerting a lot of self-control in not shouting, "I wanted to keep her out of this life, but now that she's in it, I'm going to do the best I can. I'm not going to just drop her off at some random place, she'll come with us. It may not be the best solution, but you know what, Sam? She's not your kid! So I'm going to raise her my way, and I don't care what you think on the subject!"

"Dean…" Sam said, knowing he had pushed one too many of Dean's buttons. "I'll help you take care of her, but…I just think there are better ways of raising her than in this life…than raising her as a hunter."

Silence reigned for a bit as Dean sat on the edge of his bed, watching his daughter's sleeping form. About ready to give up on waiting for a reply, Sam lay down on his bed, and Dean finally spoke, though Sam barely heard him, "I know…"

* * *

While Dean was starting to eat some apple pie the next morning, Sam was left to the task of waking up Sara. After several attempts at being nice by simply calling her name and shaking her shoulder, he cast an exasperated glance at Dean, "I'm going to have to throw water on her or something."

Mouth half full of pie, Dean shouted, "Sara, pie!"

Sam couldn't believe that worked, Sara's eyes flew open, and she sat up, looking around and finally spotting the pie.

Giving a smirk, Dean said, "Go change and then you can have some, all right?"

"Yes, sir," Sara said, heading to the bathroom once she'd grabbed a change in clothes.

"I can't believe that worked," Sam muttered as he sat down across from Dean at the table. "She really is your kid."

"Yeah, she'll start sleeping more lightly though after she's seen what we do," Dean stated darkly. He changed the subject quickly, "So, find anything?"

"Actually, yeah, looks like we've got a shape shifter close by," Sam said, "Only a few miles from where here in a town called West Bethel."

"How far is it from here?" Dean asked.

"Well, we're in Rumford so about thirty five minutes."

"Not too bad then, what makes you think it's a shifter?" Dean questioned.

Sam answered, "The fact that all the suspects who were arrested claim to be in different places then where the murders took place."

"Makes sense then," Dean commented, distracted as his daughter exited the bathroom and sat down at the table.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable sitting down at the table, she decided to study its surface intently; I think I intruded on a conversation I probably shouldn't have… She didn't want to look up at either of them, half-afraid that she'd see something in their eyes she didn't want to acknowledge.

A small smile appeared on Dean's face as he grabbed a paper plate that was next to the pie tin and cut a piece of pie with a knife. Placing the pie on the plate and snagging a plastic fork, he slid the plate over to his daughter, "Eat up, God only knows when we're going to get our next meal, especially if we've got a shifter on our hands."

Since her father addressed her, she looked up, and was relieved when she didn't find any malice or murderous intent in his eyes, and though she was still skeptical on the whole "monster hunting" thing, she was genuinely curious as she asked, "What's a shifter?"

"Shape shifter is the full title," Dean answered. "It can take the form of anything really, including humans."

"So…how can you tell a shape shifter from an everyday, average human?" she questioned.

"A retinal flare when they're caught on camera," Sam answered.

Sara frowned, "That's it?"

"Well that, and the fact that they might want to kill you," Dean added helpfully.

Not at all soothed by this thought, she reluctantly asked her next question, "How do you kill them?"

Dean gave a nod of approval at this question, while Sam frowned, "Well, kiddo, a silver bullet or blade through the heart, decapitating them works too, or using iridium."

Sorry I asked, Sara thought, her mind once again wondering if her father and uncle were psychopathic serial killers who merely thought they were hunting monsters when they were really killing people. She didn't voice her thoughts though, merely eating her slice of apple pie.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before Sam continued with their earlier conversation, "There have been three deaths so far; we can question a couple of the victims' families and, if Bobby can swing it, maybe even some of the accused."

"Sounds like a plan," Dean said.

* * *

About thirty five minutes later, they had arrived in West Bethel, a small town that seemed to be an agriculture oriented town, yet it definitely played towards a tourist's soft spots with plenty of shops lining the streets.

"This side of paradise," Dean said, remembering the welcome sign just as they entered town. "Not so much of a paradise now with these murders."

"You do realize that they call their town that because it's at the base of Paradise Hill right?" Sam wanted to make sure Dean knew his facts.

Dean gave Sam a look as he said, "No, I didn't, Mr. Walking-Encyclopedia."

Stifling a snigger as Sam shot Dean an annoyed glance, Sara gazed out the window of the Impala, taking in West Bethel, various shops flashing past, no two seemed to sell the same thing, one place sold chocolates, another sold appliances, yet another sold pet supplies, the list just went on and on really. At the center of the main part of town was a small park, some jungle gyms set up for kids to play on along with some park benches for the adults to sit on.

Pulling in at the Rose Stay Inn, Sam quickly checked in, and then all three of them unloaded their bags into their room, a fairly decent room with light brown walls and two beds, a cushioned chair, and a bathroom.

"This will be interesting," Dean muttered, before he turned to Sara, "Why don't you go grab some IDs for Sam and I out of the glove compartment, they're in a cigar box, pick whatever ones you want, just make sure they're from the same agency." He handed her the keys to the Impala.

Wondering how many IDs they had, she walked back outside and unlocked the passenger side door of the Impala and shut the door before she opened up the glove box, managing to find the cigar box that was shoved in the back of it. Opening it up, Sara's eyes widened in shock at how many IDs were sitting in there, each with a fake name and an agency, "Holy crap," she muttered, shifting through them. There were IDs for pretty much every agency a person could possibly think of, plus a few extra. Grabbing two FBI IDs, she put the box back into the glove compartment, and started to head back to the room, making sure to lock the door on the Impala.

When she knocked on the door, her father opened it within a few seconds, in the process of putting on a tie. Surprised at her father's new attire of black pants, polished black shoes, pristine white shirt, and black tie, she wondered what exactly he and Sam were planning.

Once he finished putting on his tie, Dean asked, "So what IDs did you grab?" Sara handed him the ones she'd grabbed, and Dean nodded in approval, "Agent Nugent and Seger, good choices." He fondly ruffled her hair, Sam came out of the bathroom a second later wearing almost the same clothes as Dean, except he had the addition of a black jacket. Dean was soon matching, though, as he grabbed a black jacket off the bed, handing Sam his ID.

Sam took a look at his idea before he stowed it in a pocket within his jacket, "Ready?"

"Yep," Dean said. He glanced down at his daughter, "You've got two options, kiddo, either you can stay here in the room with all the doors and windows locked and wait for us to get back, or you can come with and stay wherever I tell you to stay at while Sammy and I ask some people questions."

Shooting Dean an incredulous look, Sam had to force himself not to argue with Dean or tell his brother what he really thought about the two options.

"I'd like to come with," Sara said, not liking the idea of being alone in the hotel room.

Dean nodded, "All right then, let's go!" He led the way out, holding the door open for his daughter, and reluctantly Sam as well. "Don't get used to that," he warned Sam.

"I won't," Sam muttered, walking towards the Impala and getting in.

* * *

A few minutes later found them back in the main part of town. Parking the Impala on the same side as the park, Dean turned around in the driver's seat, "I want you to stay here while Sammy and I go talk with some of the victims' families, all right?"

"Yes, sir," Sara answered.

Dean nodded in approval, "We'll be back shortly to pick you up and we'll discuss the case." He didn't miss the look Sam shot at him this time, but he didn't say anything about it yet. "See you in a bit, kiddo."

Getting out of the car, Sara was starting to think the hotel room hadn't been such a bad option as her father drove the Impala down the street. All of the parents that had their kids at the park gave her weird looks, so she simply sat on a bench, watching the TV's that all had the same movie playing at the appliance store.

* * *

"What was that look for?" Dean demanded as soon as Sara had shut the door.

Sam sighed, "You said you didn't want to just drop her off at places, and yet you just did!"

"I can't take her with when we're questioning families about their black sheeps," Dean stated.

Sam rolled his eyes, "She could have waited in the car then."

"Because that's so much better," Dean muttered. Sighing, he said, "Look, I couldn't come up with anything better, so I figured the most populated part of town she'd be safe in while we did this, then we can try and figure out what this shapeshifter's typical victim profile is since we didn't get to see who the people the shapeshifter impersonated killed."

Sam nodded, "Right…"

Pulling up to the first house on their list, Dean and Sam got out of the car and rang the doorbell, a hassled looking woman opened the door, "Can I help you?"

"Mrs. Hook, Agents Tugent and Seger, FBI," Sam said, both him and Dean flashing their fake badges and IDs. "We're here to talk about your husband, James Hook."

Pushing her long, black locks out of her tear-filled eyes, she whispered, obviously fighting back her tears, "I already spoke with the police about him. I had no idea that he would…" She closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip, "That he would kill that girl."

"Girl?" Dean asked, just managing to keep the alarm out of his voice.

She nodded, breaking down in tears as she demanded, "What kind of psycho kills a thirteen-year-old girl?"

* * *

About a half hour after Sam and Dean had left, Sara was still watching the TVs at the appliance store, the TVs now simply showing the people walking past, the movie having ended fifteen minutes ago. The families that had been in the park had left about ten minutes ago, obviously done with their daily dosage of outdoor activity, sighing, Sara looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Impala coming down the street. No such luck. Turning her gaze back to the TVs, she continued to watch the people passing by on them, some people even looked at the TVs, others waved at their own image on the screens, while others just simply walked by.

Her heart skipped a beat as a guy in a fancy suit walked past, and as he glanced at the camera that was catching his image, his eyes flashed silver and she didn't need her father or uncle there to tell her that it was a retinal flare caught on the camera. The guy turned his gaze on her for a second and her heart stopped. Looking away quickly, she pretended to be fascinated with something on the bench. By the time she looked back at the appliance store, the guy was gone, no trace of him, but she couldn't rid herself of the fear that was starting to course through her veins. All she knew was that she didn't want to stay out in the open park by herself any longer.

Scanning the building signs along both sides of the park, she spotted a library and made a beeline towards it, trying to look nonchalant as she headed towards it. Once inside she settled herself at a table closest to the librarian, keeping an eye out for the guy she'd seen.

* * *

Speeding down a street after interviewing the last family on their list, Dean was furious with Sam, "How the hell do you miss the fact that all of the people murdered by this shapeshifter were children? Specifically girls that are my daughter's age?"

"Maybe the fact that I'd just learned that you had a daughter?" Sam speculated. "Dean, I don't know how I missed it, but I missed it, all right? I'm sorry!"

"You'll be really sorry if we can't find her at that park," Dean practically growled.

Exasperated, Sam snapped, "I am sorry I missed the fact that all the victims were young girls, but don't take out your anger at yourself on me!"

Dean's gaze was livid, "The only thing I'm mad at right now, is you!"

"You're mad that you left her at the park without any real protection!"

Dean's response was to drive faster, the engine roaring.

After a few seconds of silence, Sam shook his head, "Look man, I am sorry I missed such an important fact…"

Dean didn't say anything, already scanning the park for his daughter. His eyes widened in panic as he didn't see her, "Sam, she's not there!"

Looking for his niece, Sam said, "Maybe she went into one of the shops, she's a kid after all. Shops interest kids, right?"

"I hope you're right," Dean said, parking the Impala and getting out, forgetting his anger at Sam for the time being as they started to search.

* * *

Sara sat in the library, now reading a book since the librarian had told her that if she wanted to stay in the library, she at least needed to be either checking out a book, using the computers, or reading a book if she didn't have a card. So, she was now reading a book on supernatural creatures, which she was getting irritated with since it seemed to be a work of pure fiction, nothing within it seemed credible, or at least not that she could tell. The shapeshifter chapter had nothing about retinal flares in their eyes, how to kill them, or anything.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, and she would have flown out of her chair if the grip on her shoulder hadn't been iron tight. Looking over her shoulder, relief shot through her as she recognized her father and uncle. Her relief soon faded as she saw the anger in his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched. His tone indicated that he was indeed pissed as he said in a quiet tone, "We're leaving here, now."

Hurriedly putting the book back, feeling her father's furious gaze on her back the whole time, they eventually exited the library. As soon as they were in the park, Dean demanded, "What the hell were you doing in there?"

"I was…" she didn't get a chance to finished, and she flinched away from her father's sharp tone.

"I told you to stay in the park! When I give an order I expect you to follow it! Next time you're not just going to get off with just a simple telling off, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered, head lowered.

Dean snapped, "I said do you understand me?"

She raised her voice so that he'd hear her, but she kept her head lowered, "Yes, sir."

"Get in the car!" Dean turned away from her then, putting his hands behind his head and walking a few steps away from her. He heard the car door open and then shut, signaling that she'd did as she was told. Taking a deep breath, Dean tried to calm himself down. He'd been panic stricken when he hadn't seen her in the park, and he and Sam had checked several places that they'd thought likely for her to be in. It was only with Sam's urging that they'd checked the library, and he'd been relieved to find her, he really had been, but the terror that he'd experienced was enough to make him angry with his daughter at making him worry so much.

Sam had listened to Dean yell at Sara, and he noticed the way she'd kept her head lowered, and how she was now sitting in the car, head pressed against the window, keeping herself turned away from where her father was. He mentally went over the conversation that Dean had just had with Sara, and he frowned as he recalled Sara trying to say something about why she was in the library. He also recalled the brief look of panic she'd had in her eyes when she'd turned around to see who had grabbed her shoulder.

Making his way over to where Dean was, he stood next to his brother, brown eyes brooding.

"Don't lecture me on yelling at her," Dean muttered, lowering his arms. "She needs to know what I expect from her. This-this was bullshit. I should have just left her at the hotel if I knew she'd pull a stunt like this…"

"Don't you find it odd that she did disobey you?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I do. She's listened so far when I've told her to do things."

Glad that he'd made that little bit of progress with Dean, Sam continued trying to lead him towards where his own thoughts had gone, "Don't you think she'd have a good reason for disobeying you?"

Frowning, Dean looked at Sam, "What are you getting at, Sammy?"

"What I'm getting at, is Sara disobeying you isn't adding up in my mind," Sam said. He started to voice his thoughts, "When you were…speaking…with her just now, she tried to say something about why she'd been at the library instead of in the park."

"Kids make excuses," Dean said, shrugging. "I'm not seeing where you're going with this."

"Let me make it a bit clearer then. When you grabbed her shoulder, and she turned around to see who exactly had grabbed it, did you notice a look of fear in her eyes for a second before she realized it was us?" Sam questioned.

Thinking about all that had occurred, Dean rolled his eyes then, muttering, "Son of a bitch." He started walking towards the Impala, saying over his shoulder at Sam, "You stay right there!"

Sam shook his head; he had no intention of following Dean while he tried to set things straight with Sara. He definitely was developing a soft spot for his niece, especially when Dean was reminding him a lot of their father and how he'd treated them when they'd been kids.

* * *

Head pressed against the window, Sara was trying her hardest not to cry. So life wasn't fair, nothing new really. Her having a decent family after being stuck in many different orphanages for thirteen years, who was she trying to kid? She knew better than to think like that, and yet she had. She'd deluded herself into believing that her father was a great guy who wouldn't yell at her needlessly, or at least would listen to her excuse before he yelled. Blinking back tears, she wondered, why do I do this to myself?

Hearing one of the doors open, she turned herself further away from whoever was entering. She didn't want to be seen crying.

Dean released a sigh as he shut the door and looked at his daughter who, from what he could tell, was determined not to look at him. Not exactly sure what to say, Dean just decided to wing it, "Hey…um…I know I yelled at you out there, but when I didn't see you out there in the park I thought that something bad had happened." He didn't want to say outright that he thought the shapeshifter had gotten her. "But…I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, not when you'd been obviously spooked by something…I should have let you say something then, and I didn't, so you can say what you wanted to now…" He paused, waiting for her to speak.

Sara listened to what her father said, but she didn't say anything when he said that she could. Even though he sounded sincere, she was afraid he'd yell at her again for not telling him sooner about the shifter.

Not exactly sure what to do, Dean looked out at the people on the street, his gaze soon went to his daughter's reflection in the window, and he glanced outside at Sam to make sure his brother wasn't looking before he pulled Sara gently away from the window and against his side, rubbing her shoulder, "Hey! I don't want you to be afraid to tell me things." She wouldn't meet his gaze, "I mean it. If something scared you, I want to know about it." He lapsed into his uncensored talking habits, "Hell, if I'd known that yelling at you would get this result I would have thought things through a bit more…but honestly, kiddo, you scared the crap out of me, that's why I yelled, I got myself so freaked out about what could have possibly happened to you that I just snapped when Sammy and I finally did find you." His little speech was rewarded with her actually looking up at him and his heart twisted a bit as he saw some tears in her eyes, "Now I've been honest. Do you want to tell me what you saw that scared you into disobeying me?"

Taking a deep breath, Sara said, hoping he'd believe her, "I saw the shapeshifter." She watched her father's expression, but Dean made sure to keep his skeptical feelings to himself until she was finished. When he didn't automatically say she was lying, it gave her a bit of confidence as she continued, "I was watching the TVs at the appliance store, it was showing the people outside who were walking past, when I noticed one guy who looked at the camera recording him, and his eyes were a silver, and I don't mean just his irises, his whole eye flashed silver."

Dean knew she wasn't lying the moment she described the retinal flare, he didn't ask her what the guy had looked like, though, since the shifter had probably shed his skin already or was would be soon. "Go on," he said, when she stopped.

"He-he looked at me, so I pretended to be looking somewhere else, and when he was gone, I just went to the first place I could think of where there were people, since the park was empty when the shifter walked past."

"The library," Dean said, looking away from her. He felt like a dick right then and there. Sam had been one hundred percent right in thinking that she'd been scared by something, the only reason that his daughter would disobey him.

"I-I won't disobey you again though," she said quietly, taking Dean's looking away to mean he still wasn't pleased.

Dean automatically looked at her again, his eyes serious, "You did the right thing. I don't want you thinking that you can't act on your own, Sara. You can. If something doesn't feel right, I don't want you standing around, I want you to act!" Glancing out the window to make sure Sam was still not looking towards the Impala he pulled his daughter into a two-armed hug, "You did the right thing. I'm just a dick sometimes." He was rewarded with a laugh from his daughter, who returned the hug then. Releasing her, Dean grinned, "I guess I should go reassure your uncle that I didn't yell at you more, huh?"

Sara laughed, "Yes!"

Glad that he had made things right with his daughter, Dean left the car and shouted to get Sam's attention, "Hey! We need to get back to work."

Translation: you were right Sam, and now I've managed to set things right, let's go hunt a shapeshifter, Sam thought as he headed towards the Impala.

Getting into the front passenger's seat, his phone started to vibrate as Dean said, "We'll head back to the hotel, drop you off and…" He trailed off as Sam answered his cell.

"Agent Seger…" Sam frowned as he listened to the officer. "We'll be there shortly," hanging up the phone he turned to Dean, "Struck again in broad daylight. Man killed his…" He trailed off, remembering that Sara was in the backseat.

Turning around in his seat, Dean addressed Sara, "We're going to drop you off at the hotel, I'm going to let you in then I want you to lock the door behind you. Don't open it for anyone, do you understand?"

Sara nodded, unsure why her father seemed so worried.

* * *

The ride back to the hotel was a tense one, no one saying a word. Dean let her into the hotel room and he listened as Sara locked it behind her as soon as the door shut. Satisfied that she'd listened to him, he hurried back to the Impala, "Another girl killed?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "We won't know more until we get there."

"Right," Dean muttered, peeling out of the parking lot and heading to the address the officer had given Sam.

Sara heard the Impala's tires squeal as her father and uncle left. With nothing to do, she turned on the TV, flicking through the channels to try and find something interesting to watch.

* * *

Arriving at the house, Dean and Sam got out of the car, flashing their badges at the officer minding the caution tape to make sure people kept away. Entering the house, they listened as a woman sobbed to an officer, "Riley had just come home and he said he wanted to see Katie…" A sob wracked through her frame, "I didn't even hear her scream, I just heard the window break, and when I went to see what had happened. I-I…" She broke down sobbing, shaking her head back and forth, unwilling to continue.

An officer approached Sam and Dean then, "Agents Tugent. Seger."

"Officer Tate," Sam said, looking away from the heartbreaking sight of the mother. "What exactly happened?"

"Father comes home, goes to see his daughter, and basically butchers her after duct taping her mouth shut," Officer Tate reported, looking sickened. "It's just crazy seeing such similar crimes, all done by different men. We haven't caught the guy yet either, but I'd almost bet he'll claim to have been somewhere else, break down crying when he hears about his daughter." He pulled off his hat, revealing his crew-cut black hair, "It just doesn't make any sense…"

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered.

Sam quickly said before Officer Tate could ask Dean any questions, "Do you mind if we look in the girl's room?"

"Go ahead," Officer Tate said.

Upon entering the girl's room on the second floor, Dean and Sam felt bile rise in their throats as they saw the blood spattered everywhere.

"This is insane," Dean muttered. "I thought that shifter we hunted when your friend was in trouble was bad, but this…" He shook his head, "This is nuts!"

"I hear ya," Sam said, going to the window. Dean looked at a picture on the girl's bedside table, a picture of her, her mother, and her father, all smiling happily in the photo. A perfect family. The girl, Katie, had her father's green eyes, her mother's blond hair. He set the picture down, disgusted at what had been ruined by a monster.

"Dean," Sam called out urgently, attracting Dean's attention. He was leaning out the window, but he leaned back in holding a small piece of flesh that looked like it had fallen off something. "Think it belongs to the shifter?"

Leaning out the window once Sam was out of the way, Dean spotted another, larger piece of flesh on the sidewalk near the house on the right, "I'd say it does. Let's see if we've got a trail to follow."

Heading down the stairs and outside, a female officer bumped into Dean, "Oh! Excuse me!" She said, meeting his eyes, she gave a small smile.

Dean gave a charming smile back to the pretty officer, "It was my fault."

"Come on!" Sam said, grabbing Dean's shoulder and dragging him away, "We're on a case!"

"I know!" Dean said, shrugging Sam off. "Doesn't mean I can't look!"

Rolling his eyes, Sam spotted the piece of flesh, looking around, he pointed towards a tree, "There!" The hurried over to the spot where some blood and flesh clung to the bark.

"How much do you want to bet that it leads to the sewer?" Dean asked.

"Not a penny." Sam answered as they headed towards the nearest sewer cover, where they found more traces of flesh, blood, and mucus.

* * *

About three hours after Sam and Dean had left to go to the crime scene, Sara was trying to figure out why some kids her age found certain shows cool. To her, they were simply overdramatized shows that didn't reflect real life. Then again…what did she know about real life? Monsters existed, this much was now proven.

The door to the room opened, or at least as far as it would with the chain still on it, she heard her father laugh and call through the bit that was open, "It's me, you can undo the chain."

Relieved that he was back, she reached up and undid the chain, Dean walked in, but Sam didn't. "Where's Uncle Sammy?" She asked, confused as to why her uncle wasn't there.

"He's doing some research at the library, trying to figure out where the shifter will strike next," Dean explained, shutting the door.

"Oh, okay," Sara said. She felt awkward as she asked, "Shouldn't you be helping him?"

"I wanted to check on you," Dean answered. "Why don't you come with me and help out?"

"Sure!" Sara replied happily, following him out of the room and into the Impala.

* * *

"This sucks!" Dean grouched, as he once again stepped in a puddle within the sewer. "I feel like we're being led on a fucking goose chase!"

"No kidding," Sam said, managing to avoid a puddle. They'd be in the sewer for little over two hours, following the trail of flesh, blood, hair, mucus, and other unsavory things, and they still hadn't found the shifter, or at least the skin that the shifter would have shed.

Rounding a corner, Sam muttered, "It was a goose chase…" They had found the pile of flesh that they'd been searching for, no shifter in sight.

A rattling sound made them both go on high alert, each pulling out their pistols. Dean took the lead, moving slowly around another corner. Cocking the weapon, he whipped around it, finding a very familiar, terrified female officer, who released a muffled scream as Dean rounded the corner. Uncocking his weapon and stowing it back in his jacket, he reassured her as he pulled off the duct tape over her mouth, "It's okay, we're not here to hurt you. We're going to get you out of here."

Sam asked the officer as they unbound her, "Do you remember what happened?"

Touching a half-dried wound on her forehead, the officer answered, "No. I was on patrol the other night when something hit me from behind. I woke up down here…" She looked at them with her brown eyes, "Who are you?"

"Agents Tugent and Seger," Sam answered.

Dean asked her, "Do you think you can make it out of here on your own?"

"Well, yes, but why?" She questioned.

"We need to track down whoever did this to you," Dean answered, though Sam noticed a wild look in his eyes.

"Yes, I can make it out," the officer affirmed.

"Let's go," Dean said to Sam, starting to run back the way they'd come.

Sam asked as he ran after Dean, "What's going on?"

"That woman's been down here since last night, yet she bumped into me an hour ago at that house!"

Sam didn't need to be told anymore as he ran faster, catching up with his brother as they tore down the sewer, back the way they'd come.

Climbing up the ladder and shoving off the manhole cover, Dean didn't stop for a breather as he dashed to where the Impala was parked. Sam heard him shout, "Son of a bitch!" He soon saw why as he drew even with his brother; the Impala was gone.

Feeling around in his jacket pockets, Dean slammed his fist against a telephone pole, "Son of a bitch! That bitch stole my keys and my car!" His eyes then widened in fear as realization struck him, "Oh my God, Sara!" He looked around and spotted a car on the street. Walking over to it he tried the door handle, the door opened. He grinned as he got in, "Got to love small towns!"

* * *

Halfway to the library, Sara watched as her father answered his phone, though she'd never heard it ring, when he flipped it closed, he said to her, "Change of plans, Sammy found a lead on where this shifter might strike next so where heading over to an abandoned house."

"Okay," Sara said, watching the buildings of the town flash past. They didn't go too far from the main street, her father stopping the car in front of the abandoned house.

"This is it," Dean said as he got out of the Impala, "I want you to stay close to me, understand? And don't question what I do."

Sara nodded, "All right."

Opening the trunk of the Impala, Dean grabbed a couple knives before he slammed the trunk closed, and headed towards the house. The sun was almost below the horizon as they entered through the half-open door that hung off its hinges, and Sara stayed close to her father, just like he had told her to.

The house was trashed on the inside, furniture lying haphazardly around, most of it broken, dust everywhere, windows broken in, everything in disrepair, even the stairs didn't look all that safe.

Looking around, Dean said, "We're going to look upstairs first."

Sara wished that they wouldn't go upstairs, but she didn't say anything as she followed Dean up them.

He paused at the top of the stairs, and glancing over his shoulder at her, he asked, "Do you know the best thing about being this type of father?"

Sara started to back away slowly, her foot heading towards the step just below as she answered, "No…I-I don't."

Dean turned fully around then, "You'll do anything just because I say so." He swung his arm with the knife handle facing towards her before her foot even hit the step. The knife hit her skull and she fell, blacking out.

* * *

When they reached the hotel in the stolen station wagon, Dean left the car running as he dashed towards their room, only to find the room door partially closed.

Sam muttered as Dean entered the car again, "They could be anywhere by now…"

"They have to be in town still," Dean insisted, peeling out of the parking lot. "We just have to find the Impala and we'll find them!"

Knowing that Dean was clinging to this small hope, Sam didn't voice his fears about what they'd find if they did find the Impala, and he doubted it'd be the shapeshifter.

Dean had the station wagon tear down the main street, wanting to search the other side of town first, assuming the shifter wouldn't want to remain on the same side of town where it'd led them on the false trail. Desperately, he started to search the side streets for any sign of his Impala.

When he reached a four-way stop, Dean tried to figure out which way to go when Sam said, "Dean! Turn left! I can see it!"

Not hesitating, he turned left, and he then saw his Impala in front of an abandoned house. Stopping at the corner of the same street, he had barely put it in park when he got out and started towards the house, the sun having set an hour ago.

Sam got out as well, following more slowly, not wanting to intrude on his brother's grief in case they were too late…

* * *

The throbbing on the left side of her head made Sara come to, at first her vision was a bit blurry, but it soon came into focus as her father pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against.

"Good, you're awake," he said, putting the knife under her chin and tilting it upwards so that she was forced to look up at him, as she struggled, she realized that she was bound to a simple, wooden chair. "I was starting to wonder if I'd hit you a bit too hard. Now that you're awake, the fun can start. A little father-daughter fun."

"You're not my father, you're a shapeshifter," she said

The shifter grinned, "Daddy did tell you that much, didn't he? Too bad he forgot to tell you that I was going after girls your age. Didn't want to scare you too badly, did he?"

Sara glared at him, though it was definitely hard to do. The shifter looked and sounded like her father, but she knew it was the shifter. Her father wouldn't do something like this to her, she was fairly certain of it.

"The question is, how much fun do I have?" The shifter mused, moving the knife out from under her chin. "Do I take it slow and make you suffer, or do I do it quick, like I did with that other girl, hmm? Decisions…decisions…"

Wanting to stall for time, she said, "My father will kill you once he gets here!"

"You mean IF he gets here," the shifter said, giving a smile. "You see, I recognized Dean and Sam Winchester for what they were the moment I saw them-hunters so I led them on a wild goose chase. I don't take too kindly to their kind, after all, one nearly ruined my fun up in Canada, but I managed to take care of him. All hunters have this air about them, and your father and uncle are no exception. They'd have everyone believe that they have no weaknesses, but they do. Or more specifically, your father does, I can't be sure about Sam."

Sara asked, stalling for time, "What's that?"

"You are one of his weaknesses, right now, you're his biggest one. Your uncle is the second," the shifter answered. "There are others, but I'm most interested in you. You see, I enjoy seeing parents torn up when their children are killed, the best part is seeing the one who's form I've taken. Oh, yes! To see their anguish, especially when they hear that they did it, even when they KNOW they were somewhere else, you can see them wondering: did I really kill my baby girl?" The shifter gazed at her then, "Your father will be really torn up. I wish I could stick around to see his face, but I can't risk him noticing me among the crowd, now can I?" He glanced out the broken window before he smiled, "I think I'll take my time, I'll enjoy your screams. Especially when you forget I'm not your father."

Sara flinched as the shifter gently touched her cheek, and whispered softly in her ear, "You know I love you, kiddo." The knife tip touched her forehead, and she bit back a cry of pain as he drew it from where her hair started on the right side of her forehead down to her ear.

"Don't worry," the shifter said, seeing the tears of pain in her eyes. "Dad's here. Nothing will hurt you."

She closed her eyes as the knife came towards her right arm when a noise of a creaking stair came from downstairs, causing him to pause.

Giving a quick slice to her arm that took her off-guard, causing her to actually cry out, the shifter lovingly kissed her forehead, "Don't cry. I'll be right back."

When the shifter left, she struggled against the ropes that bound her to the chair, but to no avail. She closed her right eye as blood dripped down her face, tears mixed with her blood as she wondered where her real father was. Another, unbidden thought went across her mind as well, are they even looking for me?

* * *

Dean and Sam both hurried back down the stairs when one of the steps creaked under their weight. Hiding on either side of the stairway, they listened as the shifter came down the stairs slowly.

Listening intently, Dean waited for the shifter to get closer, cocking his pistol. Sam did the same before he looked Dean's way. Nodding, as the shifter reached the lower part of the stairs, they both leapt around from where they'd been hiding, but the shifter was ready, punching Dean in the face with a right hook before he could even pull the trigger, knocking him into Sam.

Both of them recovered quickly, and Dean muttered, "So, can you handle the handsome fella over there while I head upstairs?"

"Pretty sure I can," Sam said, taking aim with his gun and firing at Dean's double.

Dean didn't waste any time, heading quickly towards the stairs and taking the steps two at a time.

The shifter managed to dodge the bullets Sam fired at it, swinging the knife blade expertly. Ducking and weaving to avoid the deadly blade, Sam didn't expect the punch in the stomach that left him winded. Before he recovered, the shifter grabbed his hair and slammed his head against the floor, and though Sam struggled to keep conscious, he soon blacked out.

* * *

Sara's eyes widened in fear as she listened to the gun shots, wondering if it was her father and uncle that were taking on the shifter, or some poor policemen who wouldn't stand a chance against the shifter. She heard heavy footsteps on the stairs just as the gunshots stopped. When her father entered the room she assumed it was the shifter and closed her eyes, not wanting to watch the knife come near her again.

"Are you all right?" Dean asked as he started to untie his daughter from the chair. He saw the cut on her forehead and arm, half-wishing now that he'd let Sam come up instead so he could have put a bullet in the shifter.

Daring to open her eyes as she felt the ropes holding her midsection to the chair come undone, she stared at her father as he moved to her right side, untying her right arm, "I'm okay…"

Her voice was barely a whisper, so Dean knew that meant otherwise, "I'm going to get you out of here, don't worry." Dean finished untying the rope that held down his daughter's right arm, he moved on to the left one, he didn't think much of it when he heard someone hurrying up the stairs.

Feeling relieved that her father was there, she looked away from him just as she saw her father's figure entering the room, "DAD!"

Whipping around, gun in hand, Dean felt a kick on his wrist and the pistol flew out of it. The shifter swung downwards at him with a knife, and he caught the shifter's wrist, twisting it till the shifter cried out in pain, dropping the knife. Receiving several punches to the right side of his face, Dean rolled, trying to get the upper hand against the shifter.

As soon as Dean started to fight with the shifter, Sara struggled to untie her left arm, wanting to help her father. Finally undoing the rope, she hurried over to where her father's pistol had landed in a corner, when she turned around, pistol cocked and ready to be fired, she froze. She couldn't tell which one was the shifter, and which was her father.

Dean caught sight of his daughter with the pistol just as the shifter got him back onto the floor, slamming his head against it, he shouted to his daughter, "Shoot it!"

The shifter glanced at Sara, and said, "Don't shoot, you'll hit me, the shifter is this one!"

"Sara, shoot it!" Dean shouted as he managed to get a punch in with his right arm.

The shifter fell back and let Dean pin him to the floor, "Shoot now! You'll hit it!"

"Don't shoot until I move!" Dean grunted as the shifter punched him in the stomach and then the face, Dean shouted once more, "Shoot!"

Sara's heart was pounding in her chest, her ears were filled with the sound of it, her father's cries of shoot and don't shoot muffled by the sound. Which one is which? Who's the shifter and who's my father? I can't shoot if I hit the wrong one! As they two wrestled, each one shouting shoot or don't shoot depending on what position they were in, she focused on the one she thought was the shifter and waited for a clear shot. When the one she'd focused on had the other pinned to the floor and was pulling back his right arm to punch the one on the floor, she pulled the trigger, the sound extremely loud, even over her heartbeat which had muted the other sounds. The bullet hit her target dead on in the back of the head, no sound escaping from the parted lips as he fell forward onto the one he'd had pinned.

The thud was as loud as the bullet as Sara sank to the floor, her back against the wall, she knew she'd shot her father, she just knew it. She'd screwed up, that was her life after all. There was no happy ending for her, she'd shot her father, now the shifter would finish what it started, kill her uncle if it hadn't already, and then kill more people, more kids. Silent tears streamed down her face as she slumped to the ground.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Dean pushed the shifter's body off of himself, rolling it to the side. Sitting up painfully, he saw the bullet's exit through the shifter's forehead. Unable to keep himself from grinning, he said as he turned to face his daughter, "That was a nice shot there kid…" The words died in his throat as he saw his daughter on the ground, tears streaming down her face, her small frame trembling. What had he been thinking? She was a kid! A kid shouldn't have to kill or be in the life of hunting!

With a grunt of pain, Dean got to his feet and walked over to his daughter. Using the wall, he slid down next to her, on her right. Once he was situated, he pulled her against his side with his left arm; he rubbed her shoulder as he pressed his head against the top of hers and tried to soothe her, "Shhh…it's all right. Shhh, shhh, shhh. Hey, it's all right…I'm here…Shhh…" He didn't take his eyes off the far wall as his mind started to think of what he should do with his daughter, since one thing was obvious-she couldn't stay with him in this lifestyle. He'd been an idiot to even try and keep her with him. It wasn't safe for her to be with him, nor was it healthy for her. His eyes never left the wall, not even when he heard footsteps on the stairs; he just continued to soothe his daughter as best he could.

Sam stood in the doorway to the room, taking in the scene; he wasn't actually sure what to do. Dean was already trying to soothe his daughter, the shifter was dead, and from what Sam could tell; either Sara or Dean had killed it just from where the gun lay near the pair. He watched silently as Sara adjusted her position and cried into her father's shoulder. Seeing that his niece wasn't terribly hurt from what he could see, his gaze went to his brother.

Dean looked a bit worse for wear, but nothing that wouldn't heal fairly quickly; he didn't like the look in his brother's eyes though. They were filled with pain, sorrow, and more pain. He had a bad feeling as to what his brother's thoughts were.

When Sara realized that she hadn't shot her father, the tears came all the faster due to relief, and when he soothed her, she cried all the harder simply because she was so happy that he cared about her, he really did. He wasn't a psychopathic killer. He wasn't insane. Yes, he hunted monsters, but he was still her father. It was nice to think that someone cared.

* * *

A week later, Sam was glaring out the front windshield of the Impala, furious with his brother for what he was about to do. Worst of all, Dean hadn't told Sara what he was doing or where they were going. Dean had driven almost non-stop to Pennsylvania from Maine, all for one purpose…to drop Sara off at an orphanage there. Dean had told Sam this the same night that Sara had killed the shifter, simply saying that he couldn't keep her with him when it put her in danger. Furious beyond belief, Sam cast a frosty glare at his brother. If Dean had really deluded himself in believing that she'd be one hundred percent safe while with them, then Sam really would punch him the next time they stopped. It wasn't fair to Sara; after all she had been through, to drop her off at an orphanage.

Oblivious to the frosty glare he received from his brother, Dean was staring down the highway, feeling sick to his stomach about what he was about to do. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, he asked his daughter, "Are you okay?"

When her father asked her for the umpteenth time if she was okay, she simply nodded, wondering what was up. The tension in the Impala could be cut with a knife between her father and uncle, not to mention that her father was acting strangely. Ever since the night she'd shot the shapeshifter he'd been acting weird. He'd rarely left her side when they had been at the hotel, and when they'd hit the road, he'd ask her if she wanted to stop at just about every family tourist spot there was, and though they had stopped at some places, she just couldn't enjoy herself when her uncle was apparently angry with her father about something, which worried her.

Pulling up to a curb in the town, Sara stared in absolute horror at the sign that read: Pennsylvania State Orphanage. She stared at her father as he got out of the car, "Come on."

Reluctantly, she obeyed, getting out of the car and walking to the trunk where her father was pulling out her bags. He handed her one, carrying the other two as he headed towards the front door of the orphanage. Sara only followed him for a few steps before she stopped, desperately trying to figure out what she'd done wrong, why else would he be abandoning her again?

When Dean didn't hear his daughter's footsteps behind him, he glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Are you coming?"

Instead of answering his question, Sara said, "Dad…"

Dean turned around completely, having a feeling that he knew what coming-she was wondering why he was doing this, and he had an answer ready. Sara's question took him completely off-guard though, "What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong," Dean reassured her as he walked back to where she stood.

Sara gazed at him in confusion, "Then why are you abandoning me again?"

"I'm not abandoning you," Dean said, setting down the bags he'd been carrying, green eyes meeting green eyes. "This is just the best thing I can think of…"

"Best thing for who?" Sara demanded, "You?"

"No," Dean said, shaking his head, "For you." He stopped any argument from her by holding up his hand, "This is the best thing for you. No more monsters. No more nearly getting killed. None of the life Sam and I live! You'll be safe!"

Sara shook her head in disbelief, "Dad…"

"It's for the best," Dean repeated, looking away from his daughter's hurt gaze. "It's not a life I want for you…you shouldn't have to kill things at this age…"

"If this is about me shooting the shifter, I thought I shot you, that's why I was upset!" Sara continued to argue.

"It doesn't change the fact that I don't want this lifestyle for you," Dean stated.

"Dad…it's not like I can just forget that monsters exist…" she murmured, looking at the ground, "I can't just forget about you or Uncle Sammy. I can't just go with a family if one even wants to adopt me when I'll be wondering if you're coming back for me…"

Dean was shaking his head, his eyes closed, he couldn't say the words that he had planned to say, I won't be coming back…

Lifting her gaze up from the ground, she watched him shake his head. Not wanting to lose the family she'd just found out she had she continued, "What happens if a shapeshifter is here? What if it impersonates you? I'd go with it and you wouldn't be around to…"

"Stop it," Dean said, cutting her off. What Sara had said had occurred to him, but to hear her voice his worries aloud was too much. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, and he then looked at her. It was obvious she really didn't want to be parted from him or Sammy, and he honestly didn't want to abandon her again either. He picked up her bags, with a sigh, "Son of a bitch…" Dean walked back to the Impala, and he heard his daughter following behind him, easily picturing the smile on her face. Sure enough as he opened the trunk and placed the bags in there, she was smiling. It was contagious too, since he smiled back at her as he closed the trunk and said to her as he walked towards the driver's door, "Are you sure you want this, kiddo?"

"A family? Of course!" Sara answered, sliding into the back seat.

Dean sighed. That hadn't been what he'd meant at all, but he figured there was no point in trying to explain what he meant to his daughter. Getting into his seat, Sam said to him, "It's better this way, Dean."

"Right," Dean said, starting the engine, and, out of habit, turning on the radio, his favorite station playing, "Walk This Way" by AC/DC. Sam shot him a look, and Dean apologized to his daughter, "Sorry, habit."

Sara had been softly singing the words to the song when her father spoke, and she exclaimed, "Don't turn it off! I love this kind of music!"

Sam groaned, while Dean gave him a triumphant grin, turning up the volume and singing, his daughter's voice joining his. Sighing, Sam knew that the lack of old music was now over, but he didn't mind it too much at the moment, especially since Dean hadn't gone through with his decision, and instead, Sara was still with them, things weren't all that bad.


	2. Two: Pawns in a Game

**_I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters in it apart from the ones that come from my own imagination, and of course all errors are mine. Enjoy!_**

**_*Please note that I've only gotten about halfway through season seven of Supernatural and I realized that I somehow missed a couple episodes in the previous seasons (smacks head against desk).*_**

* * *

**Two: Pawns in a Game **

Night was long settled over the land as a family started to get ready for bed in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. A woman with light brown locks tucked her two daughters into bed, the older of the two already settled in bed, only her light brown hair visible as she started to drift off to sleep. The younger girl sat in the other bed. Pushing her black hair out of her eyes, she asked her mother in a whisper, "You did tell her not to pull any pranks on me again tonight, right?"

The mother's brown eyes were gentle as she reassured her daughter, "Yes, even though Julie insisted that she hadn't done anything."

"She's been pulling on my arm and scratching me!" The younger girl insisted.

"I know, sweetie," the mother reassured her daughter. "I made it clear that Julie was not to do anything like that again. Now try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," the daughter muttered, lying down in her bed.

Pulling the blankets up over her daughter, the mother kissed her forehead lovingly, "Good night, Kristen, sleep well. I love you."

As she left the room, the mother turned off the light, and closed the door until only a small sliver of light shown through giving the dark bedroom a tiny amount of light.

The younger girl, Kristen, closed her eyes, and just as she started to drift off to sleep, she heard a rattling somewhere in the room. Sitting up in bed, Kristen asked warily, "Julie, is that you?" No response came from her sibling. Her breath coming in panicked gasps, she hunkered down in bed once more, pulling the covers over most of her head. The rattling sound continued. Shaking with fear, Kristen sat up once more, her brown eyes wide with terror as she looked around, heart pounding in her chest, and sweat trickling down the back of her neck, she desperately sought for the source of the sound. Her eyes went to the window as it flung itself wide.

Kristen stared at the window. When nothing else happened for several seconds she asked in a tentative whisper, "Julie?"

Eyes flying to the window once more, she opened her mouth to scream as a whirling mass of black smoke shot through the window towards her.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, in an abandoned warehouse, Dean and Sara were walking cautiously through the stacked crates and boxes, keeping an eye out for the resident vengeful spirit that had locked them in.

"Sammy better hurry the hell up!" Dean grouched as he glanced around the corner, making sure the spirit wasn't there. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Charlie keeps popping up just about everywhere!"

Sara simply agreed, knowing it was the best method of letting her father vent. Merely agreeing or disagreeing when he wanted a response. Glancing back, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye and turned around fully, pistol ready to fire. Seeing the pissed off spirit swinging a two-by-four, she made to fire, when Charlie disappeared as a shot sounded from behind her.

Embarrassed that she'd hesitated too long, Sara glanced back at her father to see if he was pissed, but Dean was already facing the other way again, looking around the corner and further down the row.

"Sorry, Dad," she muttered.

Dean glanced back at her, "We'll work on your timing later...If we make it out of this!" Dean checked his sawed off shotgun, "Son of a bitch!" Checking his jacket pockets he swore once more, "Sammy, hurry the hell up!"

This time, when Sara spotted the spirit while her father complained about her uncle's timing, she fired and the spirit dissipated yet again, Dean nodded in approval, "Let's just keep this up for a bit longer." Leading the way around the corner, Dean said over his shoulder, "Start looking for anything that could be iron…" He fired at the bloodied spirit as it appeared again, "We're going to be needing it at this rate."

"Is it just me or has Charlie gotten bolder?" Sara questioned as she fired at the spirit. "How'd he die again?" She added as an afterthought.

"Beaten to death with a two-by-four," Dean answered. "One of his co-workers thought that he'd slept with his wife."

"So that institutes…!" She jumped as her father fired yet another shot. "Beating the poor guy with a piece of wood?"

Dean shrugged, "Guess his co-worker thought so."

"And now Charlie just likes beating people with two-by-fours?" Sara asked. Even though she'd been with her father and uncle for about a month now, she still wasn't familiar with everything.

"Considering we saved the descendants of the guy that killed him, I think Charlie's making an exception for us," Dean explained.

Firing yet another shot at the ghost, Sara sighed, "Right…"

"Let's keep searching for some iron," Dean said, focusing on looking at the various items scattered throughout the warehouse.

Sara followed behind her father, but she was walking more slowly, trying to make sure she didn't miss any potential iron weapon. She didn't realize that she was dropping further and further behind her father, a decent gap opening up between them. Pausing at a broken crate, her eyes went to a wrench lying amid the broken wooden pieces. Hearing a ragged breath, she spotted Charlie walking towards her, and she pulled the trigger of the pistol, but no bullet came out. "Oh, hell," Sara muttered as she dove between the broken crate and a solid crate as Charlie swung at her with the two-by-four.

Now in a hurry as Charlie started walking towards her again, Sara shoved aside some of the smaller pieces of wood, though she reached through the gap to reach the wrench, but the larger pieces kept her hand just millimeters from it. "Come on!" Sara grunted, straining to get the wrench, which she was praying was iron, as Charlie got closer.

As Charlie swung the two-by-four, Sara shielded her head with her other arm, but the blow never came. Glancing from under her arm, she sighed in relief as she saw her father standing there, a wrench in his hand. "Iron," Dean said, grinning. "Reaching for another one?"

"Yeah," Sara said, pulling her arm out of the broken crate.

Handing his daughter the wrench he'd found, Dean grabbed the one she'd been trying to reach easily. "Now, we just need to keep on alert until Sammy salt and burns this son of a bitch." He stood up, "Whatever you do, don't throw your wrench, and don't stand too close to me either, I don't want to accidentally hit you, or vice versa, all right?"

"Got it," Sara said, letting her father walk a few paces away from her before she followed, holding the wrench in her left hand, and ready to swing it at a moment's notice. They didn't have to wait long for Charlie to reappear, swinging his two-by-four, Sara had to backpedal quickly as her father dodged the swings, complaining all the while, "Only problem with wrenches, they're too damn short!" He ducked another swing and swiped at the ghost, swearing as nothing happened, "Why couldn't everyone use iron wrenches?!" He threw the wrench to the side, and ducked yet another swing. Dean shouted at Sara, "On the next couple swings or so, find an opening, get in, and get rid of Charlie-boy at least for a little bit!"

Nodding, Sara swallowed nervously as she watched for an opening as her father ducked and wove to avoid getting nailed by the spirit. When her father actually got behind the spirit, that's when she went in. As Charlie started to turn towards Dean, Sara swung the wrench; however, neither Dean nor Sara had given Charlie enough credit. The vengeful spirit swung the two-by-four at her, catching her with a glancing blow to her midsection, and she went flying into a solid, wooden box, the wrench leaving her hand. To say the least, the thirteen-year-old was winded, and Charlie's focus was all on her now.

Seeing the ghost advancing on his daughter, Dean frantically searched for the wrench she'd lost. Seeing a glint of it in the moonlight that was shining through a window just several paces away from where he was standing, he ran towards it, picked it up, and spun around, relief coursing through him; but it was short lived as he saw the spirit swinging the two-by-four to hit his daughter. Not thinking about anything except keeping his daughter alive, he flung the wrench at the spirit.

Still winded from the first blow, Sara shut her eyes as Charlie swung the two-by-four, but once again, the blow never came, though there was a distinct clanging from much further down the row. Opening her eyes, she heard footsteps hurrying towards her, and soon her father was next to her, "You all right?"

She managed to nod her head as she started to catch her breath. Putting a hand behind her back, Dean helped her to sit up. Sara managed to say, "You disobeyed your own order."

"Well I gave the order, so I think I'm allowed to," Dean stated, giving a grin. It faded quickly as they both heard Charlie at the end of the row where the wrench lay. "Sammy, hurry up!" Charlie got closer and closer, his bloodied shirt, skull, and neck becoming clearer than it'd been all night in the dark warehouse, his black hair disheveled and clinging to his skull, the bloodied two-by-four in his hand looked all the more menacing now that they were weaponless. "Come on…come on…come on…!" Dean said through gritted teeth, waiting for the spirit to burst into flames signifying that Sam had done the salt-and-burn. Standing only a foot or two from them, Dean shoved his daughter behind him, shielding her, and waited for the blow to come as he watched the two-by-four swing through the air towards his exposed head. It never came. Instead, an agonized shriek came from Charlie as his body became consumed by flames, and within seconds there was nothing left.

Sighing in relief, Dean said, turning to face his daughter, "Let's wait for Sammy outside."

Sara got to her feet gingerly, her stomach throbbing from being hit, even if it was a glancing blow, from the two-by-four. She followed him out, one hand holding her stomach. The only indication of her father's worry for her was that he kept his pace slow, staying by her side.

Once outside, Sara leaned against the wall of the warehouse and slid to the ground. Though her stomach still hurt, it was only a dull throb; she knew it'd go away soon. All else failed, she'd be very stiff tomorrow morning.

Dean sat down next to his daughter, "Not bad for a night's work…" His gaze appeared focused on the road, but he truly was keeping an eye on his daughter.

"Yeah," Sara said, not all thrilled with how she'd done. In the month she'd been with her father and uncle, this was already her fifth hunt where she actively participated in, to use her father's word "ganking" the ghost or monster that they'd been hunting. So far, it'd been the same each time, she'd show promise, and it seem like she was actually helping them, but in the end, her father or uncle was always coming to her rescue. _Is this how it's always going to be?_ She wondered. _Dad and Uncle Sammy always being the heroes?_ Glancing at her father discreetly, or at least she thought it was discreetly, she wondered what he was thinking as he gazed at the road, _he's probably wishing he'd left me in Pennsylvania, or at least never offered to let me actually hunt with him…_

"Hey," Dean said, startling her. "You did fine tonight."

His words surprised Sara, "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, a small smile appearing on his face as he looked at her. "We might need to work on your slight hesitation when you fire a gun, but you did fine."

"Sorry…I didn't mean to hesitate so much…" Sara muttered, looking away from him.

"I'd rather have you hesitating before you shoot rather than just blasting away at any sight or sound. We just need to work on how long you hesitate," Dean asserted. "You waited only a fraction too long sometimes, other times you were dead on." Seeing that his daughter still had a dejected look on her face, he added, "It's not something to beat yourself up over, just something that we know you need to work on."

Sara nodded, still looking dejected, "Right…"

Dean sighed, looking back at the road, his mind wasn't on when Sam would arrive, but on his daughter, _worrying over nothing again!_ He noticed her hand still over her stomach, _God, I hope she's not hurt badly! _A yawn came unbidden out of his mouth, and he ran his hand over his face, _why do I keep having this problem? I never used to be so wiped out after simple jobs like this!_ Spotting headlights approaching, Dean got to his feet, "That'll be Sammy." Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sara get up, noting that she didn't seem to be in too much pain.

Though it hurt to get to her feet, Sara had to admit that the pain could be worse. As Sam pulled the Impala up right in front of them, Sara didn't bother heading to the drivers' side like she usually did. All she wanted to do was get into the car and crash, her body drained both physically and mentally. Sliding into the backseat, she was surprised when her father said, "Keep sliding over, kiddo. I'm going to keep you company back here."

As Sara scooted over, Dean got into the back seat, receiving a surprised look from Sam as he looked at Dean through the rearview mirror. "Took you long enough," Dean grouched to Sam.

"It wasn't exactly easy to find his grave," Sam stated, knowing Dean was basically saying "thanks for saving our asses". He pulled away from the warehouse, driving to their motel room in Darlington, thirty minutes away from Dodgeville.

Sara wasn't listening to her father and uncle's conversation, her eyes closed as she attempted to drift off to sleep, but it was hard to when she kept recalling how useless she'd still been on, what her father and uncle classified as a, simple job. Sighing, she opened her eyes and watched the dark scenery flash past.

Hearing a sigh from his daughter, Dean glanced at her, before he said quietly, "Why don't you lie down and try to get a bit of sleep before we get to the motel."

Knowing it'd be useless to argue with her father, Sara laid down, gingerly resting her head on her father's thigh, her whole body tensed and waiting for him to say that she needed to adjust her position so that they weren't touching. The words never left Dean's mouth. Instead, he placed his hand on her shoulder and started to rub it, and she soon relaxed. Closing her eyes, she thought, _this must be one of those times he wants to have a father-daughter moment…_ she was asleep in no time.

Sam heard Dean tell his daughter to lie down, and he had to force himself not to look in the rearview mirror or shake his head. He didn't approve of how Dean treated Sara. From what Sam could tell, Dean rarely showed his daughter any sort of obvious affection, and it reminded Sam far too much of their own father and how he'd acted towards them. _Then again,_ Sam argued to himself, _Dean and Sara are still trying to figure out each other…I guess I shouldn't worry so much about how they act around each other until they've been together longer…_

* * *

About a half hour later, they arrived at the motel, and Dean gently shook Sara awake. As she opened her eyes, he said, "We're here. I want you to take some pain killers before you really zonk out."

"Okay," Sara murmured, fighting back a yawn. Slowly sitting up, she had to admit that her father's idea of pain killers was a good one as her stomach gave a throb of pain.

Sam led the way into their motel room, revealing only two beds, a chair that didn't look all that comfortable, and a bathroom. "We could have picked better," he muttered to Dean.

Looking around, Dean shrugged, "We could have picked worse too." Setting his bag next to the chair, Dean fished out the pain killers and threw the bottle to Sara, "Take one or two of those, all else fails, they'll knock you out for the night."

"Thanks, Dad," Sara said as she grabbed her pajamas and headed into the bathroom. Yawning, Dean plopped down into the chair, amazed at how crappy the chair really was, but he didn't complain. He'd slept in less comfortable places, and one night wouldn't hurt him.

Sam glanced at his brother who looked like he'd fall asleep any second, "Dean, don't forget, tomorrow I need to see if the Dodgeville Post Office received any packages."

"Why do you need all those packages again?" Dean questioned, half-awake.

Sara exited the bathroom as Sam answered, "So Sara can still get her basic education."

"Is it really needed?" Father and daughter asked at almost the exact same time and in the same tired tone.

"Yes," Sam said, exasperated. Praying he wouldn't have to argue with either of them, again, over why it was necessary.

Dean murmured, "I won't forget…" Opening one eye, he said to his daughter as she crawled into bed, "Night, kiddo."

"Night, Dad," she responded, adding, "Night Uncle Sammy."

Fighting back a chuckle, Sam said, "Night."

* * *

That night, while Sara and Sam slept peacefully, Dean twitched in his sleep while sweat dripped off of him. Every now and then his hands would clutch at the arms of the chair as if he were in pain, and he kept whimpering, "No…please, no...!"

Dean knew he was dreaming the second he saw the fire and shadow creature in the room. It laughed at him, "You simple minded fool! Did you really think that simply taking her from there would help? It's so easy to track her now."

"What the hell are you?" Dean demanded, rising from the chair.

"Don't you mean, who?" the fire and shadow faded, revealing a woman, her blond hair and piercing blue eyes were not familiar to Dean.

"So you're some sort of psychotic bitch, I knew that already," Dean said.

Her eyes narrowed, "You really are a cocky bastard, sleeping with women everywhere and allowing them to believe you're just a regular guy who wants to get laid." She smirked then, and a chill went up Dean's spine, "I knew what you were though when we met at that bar thirteen years ago. You were like me at the time, a hunter, just wanting a little down time." Her eyes hardened again, "I thought you might actually be sincere, but you got me banged up with that brat!" The fire and shadows returned, covering her body once more.

"There's no way," Dean whispered, panic in his eyes. "You're not…"

"That child's mother? Oh yes I am, Dean Winchester," she stated.

"Why the hell are you doing this?" Dean asked.

"Because I want to see you in as much pain as I was. I fell for you hard, and I believed that you'd stick around, but oh no, you were just like every other bastard I'd met, but unlike the others, you left me with a little gift, not to mention the fact that you left me all alone with a broken heart." A smile came across her face once again, "I want you to go through that pain, and I could easily start your torment now." Her eyes gleamed, "But I won't. I want your pain to be worse than mine. Oh, yes! I want you to wish you were dead by the time I finally make my final move. So, enjoy your year with her, because at the end of it, you'll lose her."

Waking up with a gasp, Dean's eyes looked wildly around the room, but there was no sign of the demon. Sitting up, he glanced at his daughter's sleeping form, the demon's words echoing in his mind, _"Enjoy your year with her, because at the end of it, you'll lose her…"_

* * *

The next morning, as Sam waited in line at the Dodgeville Post Office, he couldn't get what Dean had told him out of his mind, _Sara's mother is a demon…not only that…Dean doesn't even know for sure if he is her father since he didn't really get a DNA test…Idiot! If he put half the time into actually doing things instead of trying to hide them, we'd all be better off!_ Shaking his head, the thoughts kept looping around and around in his mind, though every now and then, darker thoughts entered his mind, _What if Sara is half-demon? What if she's a demon? Who knows what kind of sick-mind games they've started to play?_ He admitted to himself, that he was finding it hard to look at his niece the same way, and he knew it'd only get harder until he was definite that Sara was really related to Dean and him, and that she was fully human. Deciding that he'd talk with Dean about all of these things later, he stepped forward in line…

Outside, Dean sat on the hood of his Impala, Sara sitting on his right. He was finding that he didn't like her out of his sight for even a second, regardless of what the demon had promised, _Demons lie…for all I know…that bitch will take her from me the second I take my eyes off of her…_ Glancing towards the Post Office, he was starting to wish that he'd never told Sam about his dream, or the fact that he really hadn't gotten a DNA test to determine if Sara was really his daughter. Looking at her, though, Dean knew she was his. There was no other explanation. No other possibility. She looked like him, sometimes acted like him, how could she NOT be his daughter? No. There was definitely no doubt in his mind that Sara was his daughter, his flesh and blood.

Once again, Dean found his mind going to the option that he really did only have a year to spend with her, and his heart ached at the thought of losing her. She was young. Too young to die. Too young to even be in this crappy business of hunting, and yet she already had her scars. This thought pained him as well as he lifted his right hand and moved it under her bangs, tracing the scar on her forehead with his thumb. Not for the first time that day, Dean wished he'd never interfered in her life so that she could have gotten a better family, a better father. One that would take her to school, had a normal job, scared the crap out of any boys that vied for her affection, would show her affection in the most obvious ways, the list was endless as to what he would have wanted for her, but, like everything else in a Winchester's life, the supernatural always seemed to have another idea.

Sara was lost in her own thoughts as well, mainly about how she could improve so that she wasn't such a burden to her father and uncle on hunts. Particularly to show her uncle that she wasn't a burden. Ever since last night, or at least when she'd woken up this morning, he'd been acting differently towards her, and she didn't want to have a strained relationship with either her father or uncle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father lift his hand, and she felt him touch the scar that was on her forehead before letting his hand drop down to his side. Wondering what was on his mind, she decided not to ask. Usually she never got a straight answer when she asked those type of questions anyway. After a little bit more deliberation, particularly after she noticed the troubled look in her father's eyes, she asked against her better judgment, "What's on your mind, Dad?"

Dean blinked, burying his thoughts for the time being at his daughter's question, "Lots of things, kiddo."

"Oh," Sara said, still disappointed even though she'd expected the answer.

"My main thought though," Dean added upon hearing the disappoint in her voice, "Is you."

"Me?" Sara asked, surprised.

Chuckling, her father nodded, "Yeah, you." He pulled her against his side, "I find you're on my mind a lot…"

Not exactly sure she should be happy or not at her father's words, she was soon jubilant as he added a bit more pressure to her side. Enjoying the one-armed hug, Sara leaned her head against him. She glanced up at him as she heard him murmur, though she wasn't sure if she was supposed to hear, "We'll get through all this somehow…" Deciding that it was best to just stay silent, she closed her eyes, content on basking in the moment while it lasted.

After several minutes of sitting like that, Dean lost in his own thoughts, Sara was debating if she should tell her father that she loved him…neither of them had said the word since they'd been together, and she knew that she'd have to be the one to stay it, especially with how her father was. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Dean removed his arm from around her, and she knew the moment was over. Not even a minute later, she watched Sam walk out of the Post Office. _Seriously? Does Dad have Sam radar or something?!_ This had not been the first time one of their few and far between father-daughter moments had been ended based on Dean's apparent ability to sense when Sam was near, or at least that's how it appeared to Sara.

"Where are the packages you were expecting?" Dean questioned as Sam got nearer.

"Didn't arrive yet," Sam answered.

Dean stood up, "Didn't arrive yet?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, looking a bit sheepish. "We'll have to stick around a couple more days…"

"A couple more days?!" Dean shouted, not in the least bit happy. Sara took that as her cue to get off the hood of the Impala, though she didn't know if her father wanted her in the Impala, or to just stand to the side. "You mean to tell me we need to stay in town, while avoiding officers that are probably looking for us since we showed them fake I.D.s and you're making it sound like it's a cake walk!"

"I know it's not," Sam stated, keeping his usual calm tone, though his eyes gave away that he was trying to placate Dean. "We'll just have to stay in different places each night, change the plates on the Impala, and…" He trailed off, giving Dean a meaningful look as he glanced at Sara.

Dean's gaze became livid, and his anger showed in his tone as he ordered, "Sara, get in the car."

Hurrying to the passengers' side, she slid into the car, the door squeaking open and shut, making a resounding thunk as it closed. Wondering what they were discussing and why Sam had given her such a look troubled her, but she tried not to dwell on it…and didn't succeed, especially as she watched her father and uncle gesture angrily at each other as they spoke.

"Are you trying to tell me you want me to drop her off somewhere after what I told you?!" Dean demanded.

Sam lost his composure then, "Yes! Especially after what you told me, Dean! You don't even know if she's your kid! You don't even know if she's human!"

"I know she's human as much as I know she's my daughter," Dean asserted.

Sam rolled his eyes, "You don't know that, Dean, you…"

Dean cut him off, gesturing at the Impala, "You look at her and tell me you're one hundred percent sure that she's not mine, then I might consider what you're saying."

Unable to meet Dean's gaze, he shook his head, "I can't…"

"I didn't think so!" Dean snapped. "So she stays!"

"At least call Cas to make sure she's not a demon or half-demon," Sam pleaded with his brother.

Dean frowned, "And what am I supposed to tell her? I asked an angel to check if you were human?"

"Maybe you don't have to tell her anything except that you wanted her to meet Cas," Sam said quickly, wanting to work with the bit of leeway he'd managed to get.

Frowning, Dean glanced back at his daughter before sighing, "Fine. I'll call Cas later tonight…"

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, relieved that he'd made him see some sense.

Dean gave him a hard stare, the expression in his eyes hard to determine, "Don't thank me…" He then walked away and got into the driver's seat, sitting down heavily and sighing, looking very worn out.

Losing his feeling of triumph, Sam walked around the car and got into the front passenger's seat.

Knowing that her father and uncle had been talking about her, Sara wondered what they'd said to get each other so worked up. She'd seen and heard the anger in her father's voice, and she'd seen how Sam had gestured. _I hope it doesn't involve me being dropped off at an orphanage just because of how I did last night…_

Dean started the car after a few seconds, feeling like the worst father in the world. _What kind of father doubts that his kid is even human…?_

* * *

Upon finding a motel that they could spend another night in, Sam started searching for any signs that they still might have a case in town. Sara tentatively asked if she could help, and Sam almost refused until he caught the glare Dean was sending his way. _I've got to admit, when Dean wants to make it clear that I need to say yes, he gets it across very well!_

In the end, he was glad that he allowed Sara to help, since she spotted a strange newspaper article, "Listen to this: girl murders sister, claims to have been possessed…" She looked from her father, to her uncle. "Can people be possessed?"

"Yeah," Dean said, realizing that this was the first time since Sara had been with him and Sam that they had come across a possible demon case. "People can be possessed by demons."

Sara frowned, "So…what do you do to get rid of them?"

"You can stab them with this," Sam stated, pulling out the magic knife he'd gotten from the demon, Ruby quite a few years back. "Or you can exorcise them with the proper Latin, not to mention making them swallow holy water or salt."

Her next question made them both realize just how much she'd become accustomed to hunting, "How many people survive being possessed by a demon?"

"I'd like to say fifty-fifty," Dean said. "But in reality…not a lot. Either the person's body is so damaged by the demon that they die once the demon leaves, or we have no choice but to kill them simply because we're in a situation where it's them or us." Sara's gaze caused him to add, "It's not a decision we like making, but we make it anyway…"

"I understand," Sara said quietly.

Glancing outside at the dark night that had descended hours ago, "You've done a great job, kiddo, why don't you go get some rest? Sammy and I will figure out what we're going to do tomorrow."  
Nodding, Sara went into the bathroom, changed, and curled up on the recliner that was going to serve as her bed for the night, the motel room only having one bed, which Dean had laid claim to as soon as he saw it. Sam had been forced to accept the floor, though Sam had decided, upon seeing a cockroach or two, that the wooden chair would be a much more suitable spot.

"Night, Dad," Sara said as she laid down. "Night, Uncle Sammy."

"Night," they both said at the same time, though their tones were completely different. One was wary, the other affectionate.

Casting yet another glare in Sam's direction, Dean walked outside. Once the door closed behind him, Dean leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, looking up at the sky for a second before he closed his eyes and bowed his head, though a bit reluctantly, "Castiel who's who knows where…It's Dean… Look, I know that you said not to bother you unless it was important, and I doubt you'll find this even remotely important, but I need you here to check something…If you can hear me…show up."

Within a second he heard a flap of wings, and he knew Castiel was there even before he heard the angel's voice, "What is it?"

"Thanks for coming," Dean said, surprised at how relieved he was that the angel had answered his prayer as he opened his eyes. "I know you're busy with other…"

"Dean, we're friends," Castiel stated, his vessel's blue eyes holding no room for argument. "If it's something that important that you feel the need to call for me, then it's important. So what is it?"

Glad that Castiel seemed willing to help, Dean explained what was going on, much to his surprise, Castiel didn't seem the least bit shocked at the news of Dean having a daughter. Once Dean had finished, Castiel asked, "What is it exactly that you want me to do?"

"Check that she's not a demon or half-demon," Dean answered.

Gazing at him levelly, Castiel questioned, "Is that all?"

"Yes," Dean answered. "Sam can use the slower methods of determining if she's really my daughter…I almost prefer the slower method."

"If that's all, I can examine her now, while she's asleep," the angel stated.

Dean started to nod when he frowned, "Wait…" Castiel waited silently as Dean tried to find the right words to use, "She's seen nothing but monsters so far since she's been with Sam and I, not to mention that she just learned of the existence of demons…she needs to know about some of the better things in life…like angels."

"You consider angels a better thing in life?" Castiel's tone was disbelieving.

Dean admitted, "Only certain ones."

At this, Castiel smiled, "Then I'll do whatever you want to get her to see this "better part" of life."

"Tomorrow Sam and I are going to investigate the house where the girl murdered her sister. In that time, Sara will need someone to…" Dean once again tried to find the right words to use.

Castiel supplied a guess, "Keep her occupied?"

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, not sure in the slightest how to phrase it any better.

"Very well," Castiel said, nodding. "I will examine her now."

Before Dean could argue, Castiel disappeared, and Dean opened the door to see the angel bent over his daughter touching her forehead, obviously focused.

Sam had nearly had a heart attack when Castiel just appeared next to Sara, but he calmed down once he realized that it was him. Glancing at Dean, Sam asked, "So…what's he doing?"

"Identifying if she's human or not," Castiel answered for himself.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, "Only that?"

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I don't need to have anybody else confirm what I already know."

Glowering, Sam looked away from Dean to Castiel, who was straightening up, "Well?"

"She's human," Castiel answered, looking down at Sara still.

Dean didn't like Castiel's tone, "But…?"

"Nothing," Castiel answered, obviously confused by Dean's question.

_I hate it when he reverts back to full-on angel tone…I can never tell how he says things then…_ Dean thought.

Castiel stared at Sara a few seconds longer, unsettling Dean a bit before he said, "I'll meet her tomorrow then, Dean." He disappeared with the usual sound of a flap of wings.

"He'll meet her tomorrow?" Sam questioned.

Dean sighed, "I figured it wouldn't hurt to let her see that not everything in this world is bad when it comes to non-human beings."

"Okay…" Sam said, deciding it'd be best not to antagonize his brother further that night.

Not wanting an argument then and there either, Dean asked, "Do you still want to take the case even if the package arrives tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Sam said, frowning at his computer screen, "This case has the potential to be a real demon-possession, and I don't want to leave one if we can get rid of it."

"Right," Dean muttered, adding in a louder tone, "We'll drop off Sara at the local park and head over there then to interview the parents, and if we're lucky, the kid."

* * *

The next morning, Sam decided to bring up the remaining issue involving Sara. As Dean put on his black dress coat, Sam said, "You know it'd be better to know for sure if she was your daughter."

"She is," Dean stated, starting to tie his tie.

Sam gave a forced laugh, "No. You don't know that. You're assuming she is."

"I'm not seeing the problem yet, Sammy," Dean said, turning away from the mirror. "As far as I'm concerned, she's my daughter. My flesh and blood. Your niece. Nothing else needs to be discussed. I went through your little idea of making sure she wasn't a demon, and that's as far as I'm willing to go on this issue!"

"What if she isn't your kid, Dean?" Sam challenged. "What if she isn't a Winchester? What if she's not supposed to even be in this messed up life of hunting, but with a regular family?"

This caused Dean to look uncertain for a few seconds, but he shook his head resolutely, "No. She's definitely my daughter."

"But you aren't one hundred percent sure," Sam persisted.

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean snapped, his eyes blazing. "Why won't you just let it rest?! So I don't know if she's my daughter by blood or not, but I don't give a rat's ass if she is or isn't, the fact remains that she's in my care now and that's all there is to it!"

Not exactly wanting to pull a cheap shot, but Sam decided to anyway, "Dean…even if there was say, a percent of a chance she was someone else's kid…someone who could give her a better life than this…would you deny her the chance to live that kind of life?"

Though Dean tried not to let it show, Sam's words hurt. It was his own doubts and worries spoken aloud. "Son of a bitch," he finally said, his voice sounding a little ragged as he walked towards his daughter and pulled out a couple hairs, giving her a rude wake-up call.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Sara demanded, rubbing the top of her head where the hairs had been plucked from.

Dean answered, his tone cold, "To put Sammy's mind at ease." Pulling out a couple of his own hairs, he deposited them on the table. "Do what you want with them." Storming outside, both Sara and Sam heard the distinct thud of the Impala's door as it was slammed shut.

Sam shook his head, grabbing first Sara's hairs, and then Dean's, placing them in two different envelopes.

Saying that Sara was confused by her father and uncle's behavior would be a drastic understatement, she had no clue what to think, really. Though she had a feeling that she was the source of the strain that was obvious between them; getting off the chair, she hurriedly changed and walked outside, hoping that her father might want to clear things up. As soon as she got close enough to the Impala, she wanted to turn back around. Her father was pissed, and she knew it. Sara had only seen her father at this point once, and that had been when she'd disobeyed him by leaving the park back on her first hunt with him and Sam.

Dean sat in the Impala, hating Sam for forcing his hand, and also for voicing his doubts and worries aloud. Yes. He did have his doubts about being Sara's biological father, but that made little difference to him, and he only doubted it slightly. After all, Sara did bear a resemblance to him, and he liked to think that he was growing closer to his daughter, but then again…what did he know about being close to anyone besides Sam? He couldn't say he'd been close to his own father, closer than Sam, yes, but not absolutely close. Dean had seen himself as a soldier that obeyed his father's orders, Dean tried not to make Sara feel that way…As the door opened he glanced up and tried to cover his anger and confusion. Sara didn't need to worry about what mood he was in. Rolling down the window, he called out, "Hey, come on in if you're ready to go!"

Relieved that her father didn't appear to be mad at her, Sara started to head towards his side of the car to get into the back seat, but her father shook his head, "Sit up front with me."

A bit perplexed, Sara made her way over to the front passenger's side door and got in, assuming that her father was pissed off at Sam. "What are we doing today?"

"First, we're going to see if the package Sammy ordered has arrived yet. Then, Sammy and I are going to interview the parents of the girl, and maybe even the girl herself, while you…"

"Wait in a park," Sara finished for her father, sulking now. She always had to wait in a park whenever her father and uncle were interrogating people about their experiences. "And make sure to call you if I see anything strange, feel like I'm being watched, yadayada…"

Dean smirked at his daughter's words, saying, "Actually, I'm dropping you off at a park where you'll meet a good friend of mine."

This had the desired effect on Sara, who brightened up instantly and asked, "Who?"

"You'll find out when I drop you off," Dean answered, still smirking. Sara sighed and he added, "I think you'll like him."

_So…it's a guy,_ Sara thought, trying to think of guy names that her father had mentioned. The only one she could come up with was Bobby, who she wasn't sure she was ready to meet.

Sam entered the car then, sitting behind Sara, and her father got a steely look in his eyes, _I guess that explains who he's pissed at…_

* * *

Pulling into the Post Office parking lot, Sam got out of the car even before Dean cut the engine. Seeing the many cars, Dean opened his door and walked to the trunk, grabbing the cooler that Sara knew contained a stash of alcohol, mainly beer. Getting out of the car as well, she sat on the hood like they'd done yesterday, and her father joined her once he pulled out a beer, sitting next to her on the hood, his right foot on top of the cooler. She watched him take a swig, wishing that he was in a better mood. Sara had learned with her brief time so far with her father and uncle that her father drank…a lot. That being said, she noticed that when he was either in a down mood, or in a particularly foul one, he tended to drink more, usually starting in the morning…like now.

Taking another swig, Dean gestured at the cooler, "Do you want a drink?"

"Um…" Sara wasn't exactly sure how to answer that question considering the usual drinks that sat in the cooler.

"I put some age appropriate drinks in for you," Dean clarified.

She shook her head, "No. I'm okay."

"If you're sure," he muttered, taking yet another swig of his beer.

Sighing, Sara wished she knew what was bothering her father, or at least figure out what Sam had done to tick him off. She knew that even if she asked, he still wouldn't tell her though. That was just how her father was. Releasing another sigh, she leaned against him.

Slightly surprised when his daughter leaned against him, Dean glanced down at her before he set his, almost empty, beer bottle behind him before he wrapped his right arm around her, and he kissed the top of her head, _I love you, kiddo. I hope you know that…_

"Dad…?" Sara said, working up the courage to say "I love you" aloud.

Dean pulled away then though, "Yeah?" He downed the last gulps of his beer just as the Post Office doors opened and Sam walked out.

"I…" she turned as Sam approached, "Never mind…"

"What were you going to say?" Dean asked, a bit concerned, though it didn't show on his face or in his voice.

"It's not important," Sara said quickly, getting off the hood and sitting in the back seat as she usually did.

Frowning, Dean got up, threw his bottle into the nearest trash receptacle, and got into the car as well. As Sam got into the car, Dean grouched, "Still no package?!"

"Nope," Sam said in an apologetic tone.

"Next time you want something delivered, send it to Bobby's!" Dean snapped, starting the engine and pulling out of the Post Office parking lot and heading further into town.

The tension in the car could be cut with a knife, and Sara was actually quite happy to be dropped off at the park, though she didn't see anyone there that seemed to recognize her father's classic car. "Are you sure he's here, Dad?"

"Most likely," Dean answered. "You'll know him when you see him, I promise." Winking at her, the Impala started to inch forward, and Sara backed up, and watched the Impala grow smaller and smaller. Sighing she spotted a bench and made her way towards it, noting the way some of the people there at the park, who she assumed were parents, looked her way. Some of the glances were pitying, a few were friendly, the rest were hard to place, though they didn't make her feel very welcomed. She was thankful that at least the park was a large one, stretching quite a ways into the forest that bordered it.

Sitting on the bench, she sighed. It would be a long wait for her father and uncle to return, it always was. Discreetly checking the inside pocket of her jacket, she felt the pistol that her father had given her as a "just in case" option. It was a reassuring feeling to know that she wasn't exactly helpless even if her father and uncle weren't there with her. Looking around the park once more, Sara decided that her father had merely said that she'd meet one of his friends there just to make her more willing to be at the park. _Well…at least it's a nice day!_ She tilted her head back and let the warm sun caress her face and neck.

Closing her eyes, wanting to enjoy the moment for a second, she heard something that sounded like the flap of a bird's wings as it landed, but much bigger than any bird. Already tense, her hand was already going for her pistol as a distinct male voice said, "It's a nice day."

Eyes flying open, her hand didn't get to her pistol, the man's hand gripping her wrist as he said, not looking at her, "I wouldn't do that. It wouldn't work on me anyway."

Not exactly scared, but not in the least reassured, Sara took in the man who was sitting on the bench beside her in a very pale brown trench coat, underneath it a black dress coat and pants, a white button up shirt underneath the black coat, and a dark blue tie. His clothes weren't the only things to catch her eye. The man's hair was what she would call windswept, not in any way neat, but it worked on him, giving him an attractive appearance, not to mention the stubble he had on his chin, giving him a rugged look, and his blue eyes…they were a bit unnerving to her. They seemed to hold so much knowledge in them that it didn't seem like his body suited the knowledge hinted in those blue depths.

"Who are you?" Sara asked, deciding that if this guy or creature, or whatever, was a threat, she could stall him from causing anyone or anything harm by keeping him talking.

The answer that came out of the guy's mouth made her wonder if he'd lost his marbles…and maybe a bit if she'd lost hers, "I'm Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord." It took Castiel a bit to realize that Sara was skeptical, "Really. I am."

"No offense, um…Castiel…but neither my father nor uncle have mentioned angels," Sara stated.

Castiel sighed, "There's a lot that you don't know about the world, didn't you just learn there was such a thing as demons?" Sara opened her mouth a couple times to try and counter, but ended up simply nodding. "Why do you find it so hard to believe in angels then?"

"I guess because of the life I've lived so far," Sara muttered darkly. She paused then as what Castiel had said sank in, "Wait…how did you know that I only just learned about the existence of demons?"

"Your father told me," Castiel answered. "He and I are friends after all."

"Somehow I can't see my father, who says hell fairly often as the friend of an angel," Sara commented.

Castiel chuckled, "You really are his daughter." Sara gazed at him quizzically so he elaborated, "He didn't want to believe that I was an angel when he and I first met any more than you want to believe me now. I figured you would react this way even when Dean requested that I meet you today."

That was enough that Sara understood that he was at least the person she was supposed to meet in the park, though she was still unsure about whether or not he had a few screws loose. "Say I do believe that you're an angel…why in the world would you be babysitting?"

"It was a favor to your father," Castiel answered. "And I'm not exactly a busy one either…not recently…"

Deciding to abandon the topic of whether or not Castiel was really an angel since she still didn't believe him, she agreed with his earlier statement, "It is a nice day."

Smiling slightly, Castiel stood up, "Walk with me."

"Um…sure," Sara said, standing up. "Granted, if my father doesn't find me in the park when he returns he'll hunt you down."

"I know he would," Castiel stated, leading the way deeper into the park, away from the main road and the children's playground, heading towards the forest, Sara followed him, though she was still a bit wary.

* * *

"Last time Sara wasn't where she was supposed to be, you were freaking out," Sam tried to rationalize, his brother's indifference at Sara not being in the park bothering him a bit more than he would have liked to admit.

Dean countered, calmly leaning against the Impala, "That's because last time she wasn't with Cas. He won't let anything harm her."

"Are you sure?" Sam questioned. "Because Cas hasn't been right since he took on my madness, and you know it."

"He's gotten better at controlling it. I trust Cas to keep Sara safe," Dean repeated.

Sam frowned, not liking Dean's lack of worry, "What if something gets the drop on Cas?"

Taking a deep breath, Dean managed to keep his face and eyes worry-free. In actuality, he was very worried that the two weren't in plain sight, but he didn't want to let it show, "What could have happened in only twenty minutes?"

"Do you really have to ask that?"

Giving Sam an annoyed glance, he continued leaning against the car, "I'm not worried."

"Then why did you insist on coming back when we found that the family wasn't home?" Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Because it'd be pointless to wait there not knowing how long we'd have to wait. I'd rather have Sara with us and make some excuse up as to why she's with us rather than having her wait here for God knows how many hours."

_Translation: he's worried_, Sam concluded, though he wasn't one hundred percent positive on that conclusion.

As the minutes dragged by from five, to ten, to fifteen, to thirty, to an hour, Dean's worry started to show in his eyes, and in the way his body was no longer relaxed as he continued to lean against the Impala, _come on, Cas…don't let me down…_

"There they are," Sam pointed towards the path that led deeper into the surrounding forest, and Dean forced himself not to sigh in relief as he saw Castiel looking like he usually did and Sara smiling. Tilting his head a bit, he tried not to let the fact that he'd never seen Sara smile like that around him get to him. Castiel was an angel after all. He probably knew what to say, or maybe Sara just felt more comfortable around Cas…Dean didn't dwell too long on the last thought, pushing it from his mind as he started to walk towards the pair.

* * *

Sara was indeed smiling, though it was more at the antics of the angel, or more precisely, how easily the angel butchered some sayings and didn't seem to have a grasp of slang terms. Along with that, Sara had found she enjoyed the angel's company, much to her own surprise. Castiel exuded an air of authority and confidence, yet he also seemed approachable and willing to listen, which he had listened to her when she'd spoken to him, willingly, about her life, her relationship with her father, and many other topics that she knew that she wouldn't have told just anyone. As to what Castiel had said or done to make her believe that he was really an angel, and a trustworthy one at that…that was between them.

A crunch of gravel caught her attention and she looked away from Castiel, her smile getting all the warmer as she saw her father.

At her smile towards him, Dean relaxed. So Cas had managed to get her to smile, no big deal. "Everything go all right, Cas?"

"Yes," Castiel answered, pausing a few feet away from the father and daughter.

Dean smiled back at his daughter, "Enjoy your time with Cas?"

"Yeah. He's pretty cool," Sara admitted, though in a low tone so the angel wouldn't hear her.

From the smirk that came across Castiel's face, Dean had a feeling the angel had heard her regardless of how low of a tone his daughter had spoken in. "Go reassure your uncle that you haven't come to any harm and I'll be there in a second."

"Okay," she said, walking over to her uncle, leaving her father and Castiel.

* * *

Sam had been focused on Dean and how he reacted towards Castiel and Sara, who seemed to be getting along well, to how he greeted her. Trying not to judge his brother on how he greeted Sara so dismissively, reminding himself that Dean was not like their own father, John.

"I'm not hurt!" Sara called out to him as she got nearer.

Sam nodded, "I can see that!"

Laughing, Sara leaned against the Impala with him, "Why are you and Dad back so early?"

"The family wasn't home, so we decided it'd be easier to come back and pick you up," Sam answered. "We'll make up some story as to why you're with us when we interview the family."

"Cool!" Sara said brightly.

Sam nodded, pulling his niece, or at least he hoped she was his flesh and blood niece, into a one-armed hug, setting aside his doubts temporarily, "You bet!"

* * *

Dean said to Castiel, "Thanks again, Cas. It means a lot to me."

He didn't expect Castiel to move or say anything. Dean actually figured the angel would disappear like he usually did. It threw him off when Cas walked right up to him until they were only a foot or two apart, and he said in a hushed tone, "You've got quite a daughter there. Make sure you take good care of her."

Before Dean could get really irritated, or confused, Castiel disappeared. He stood there for several seconds, trying to figure out what Cas had been trying to get at. The only conclusion he could come to was that Cas didn't think he was doing a good job raising Sara, _what the hell does he know about being a father? He's a frickin' angel with daddy issues!_ Reassured with this thought, Dean walked over to the Impala, glad that Sam was at least attempting to be a caring uncle to Sara, "Ready to head out? We'll see if the Dobson family is home yet."

"And if they're not?" Sara asked.

Dean grinned, "Then we'll check out a local diner!"

Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up to Clarisse's Diner, the Dobson family having still not been home.

"Let's just keep it under an hour," Sam pleaded with Dean.

Dean just grinned, "It'll take as long as it takes Sammy." Getting out of the Impala, he waited until Sara got out as well before leading the way into the diner. It was fairly easy to guess what he was looking forward to as the special of the day was "dollar pies". Even Sara's eyes lit up, much to Sam's amusement when he glanced back at her.

A bell rang as they walked in, and a blond waitress came up to them, holding menus, her blue eyes scanning both Dean and Sam with interest, "Just two of you?"

"Three," Dean said, looking her over as well as he moved to the side so that Sara was now in view.

She was immediately turned off, "This way please."

A bit insulted at how swiftly the blond had become uninterested in him, Dean had a sulky look about him as he slid into the booth that she led them to. Sam slid in across from him, looking about the same. Sara was oblivious to the fact that her father and uncle's dejection, sliding next into the booth next to her father.

"What can I get you to drink?" the waitress asked, blinking flirtatiously at Sam when she noticed where Sara sat.

"Um…just water," Sam decided.

Dean looked at his daughter, losing all hope of getting together with the waitress later.

"I'll have a Coke," Sara said.

"Make it two," Dean decided on a whim, figuring if the waitress thought he was unavailable because he had a kid, then he'd just let her go on thinking that regardless of how much it pained him.

The waitress nodded, "I'll bring those right out for you."

Sam fought back a smirk as the waitress winked at him as she left. He decided to hide it by opening up the menu and looking through it.

Not missing Sam's smirk of triumph, Dean rolled his eyes and opened up his own menu, scanning all the different items.

Feeling like she was missing out on something, Sara shrugged it off and opened up her menu, wondering what to get.

"Know what you're getting?" Dean asked after a few minutes.

Sara shook her head, "Not a clue."

"You can get whatever you want; Sammy and I won't bite your head off our anything."

Dean shot Sam such a look that Sam felt compelled to add, "Yeah, get what you want."

This was one thing Sara knew she would never get used to. It was almost like a ritual, though she did note the look that her father gave her uncle that was definitely different. Otherwise, it was the same. They didn't care what she got. As far as they seemed concerned, she could eat junk food all the time, not that she would.

_I'll never get used to some things,_ Sara decided, scanning the menu again.

The waitress returned and asked, giving Sam a smile, "Have you decided?"

"Yeah, I think we have," Sam answered.

"What'll it be?"

"I'll have the Chef Salad," Sam answered.

The waitress wrote it down and glanced at Dean, "I'll just have the cheeseburger."

Nodding, the waitress looked at Sara, "I'll just have a burger."

"All right," the waitress said, ripping off the page that had their order on it. "I'll bring it out when it's ready."

Once she was gone, Sam and Dean got down to business then, "So what's going to happen with Sara?"

"Bring your kid to work day?" Dean suggested.

Sam shrugged, "Best we've got."

"Better than the car," Sara muttered.

Dean smiled, "Don't think you're just going to get to relax…I think we're going to have you talk to the girl before or after us, maybe get some information that we might not be able to get when we talk with her or her parents."

"Right," Sara said brightly, eager to help.

Dean gave a nod of approval, "That's my girl!"

Now it was Sam's turn to give Dean a look, ruining the possible father-daughter moment that might have followed, since Sara noticed the look and didn't respond to her father's approval like she usually would have.

If looks could kill, Sam would have been six feet under. To say the least, Dean's good mood had gone right out the door from Sam's insistence on not wanting to believe that Sara was his daughter without proof and making it obvious that he and Dean weren't telling Sara about it.

To say the least, it was a tense silence until their food arrived, and even then, the tension didn't disappear. Sara felt sick to her stomach at the tension between her father and uncle, and she only ate half her burger.

Noticing this fact, Dean asked, "You all right, kiddo?"

"Yeah…just not as hungry as I thought I was, I guess," Sara muttered.

Not convinced, Dean didn't know how to try and get more information as to what was obviously troubling his daughter. He sighed, setting down his own burger, not hungry anymore at the dilemma that had just presented itself to him, _why does this always seem to happen?_ Raising his hand to get the waitress' attention, he gave Sam an annoyed look once more.

"Ready for your bill?" the waitress asked, oblivious to the tension at the table.

"Yeah."

Setting the bill on the table, she left, winking at Sam before she did so. Sam made to grab the bill when Dean snatched it, commenting, "Janelle says she thinks you're cute and left her number for you…too bad you're not getting it."

Sam glared at Dean, while Dean pulled out some money from his wallet, leaving several one dollar bills on the table, "You're going to have to move, kiddo, so I can pay this bill." His daughter moved out of the way pretty quickly, and Dean really wished Sam had kept his opinion to himself.

Both Sam and Sara followed Dean to the counter, and then out to the Impala, where the tension continued to reign supreme for the twenty minute ride to the Dobson's house, where Sam and Dean both noted the car in the driveway.

"All right, let's see how this plays out," Dean said, getting out of the car.

Sam glanced back at Sara, "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Sara answered, determined to show that she wasn't just a burden on the job, since she was fairly certain that that was what her uncle was annoyed about.

Sam and Sara both got out of the car, and caught up with Dean as he rang the doorbell. It didn't take long before a woman with light brown hair answered the door, her eyes red and her cheeks puffy from crying, "C-can I help you?"

"Mrs. Dobson, we're Agents Colt and Remington, and we'd like to ask you a few questions concerning your daughter's death," Dean said, cutting right to the chase.

A man with mud brown hair came up behind Mrs. Dobson, "Haven't the police asked enough questions already? Can't you people leave us in peace?!"

Sam tried to soothe the distraught couple, "I know this is difficult, but the FBI needs to do their own investigation."

Mr. Dobson looked like he wanted to argue, but Mrs. Dobson nodded, sniffing a bit as more tears started to fall, "Come in…"

All three of them walked in, Mr. & Mrs. Dobson barely glancing at Sara as she followed her father and uncle into the quaint, little living room, the furnishings all gray, with accents of pastel colors in the room, like the pillows on the couch, or the frames on pictures.

"Before we begin," Dean said, "I'd really prefer not to have my daughter, hear any more about this than necessary."

"Why did you bring her then?" Mr. Dobson demanded.

Dean explained, "Bring your kid to work day, didn't expect it to be one quite like this though."

"Is there a chance she can perhaps talk with your other daughter?" Sam suggested.

Mrs. Dobson's eyes filled with hope, "Does that mean you don't think my Kristen murdered Julie?!"

"No we don't, Mrs. Dobson," Dean said.

She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes, "Yes…um…Kristen is in our room since…" She broke down sobbing, her husband wrapping his arms around her.

At a nod from her father, Sara headed upstairs, assuming that was where the parents' bedroom was, since from what she could see of the downstairs, didn't contain any bedrooms.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she looked around, trying to decide whether or not she should go to the right, or to the left. An open door to the left helped her decide, and she knocked on the partially open door before walking in.

A girl with black hair was sitting on the floor of the room just in front of the bed, her eyes, like her mother's red from crying. She asked in a whisper, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Unsure of what to say, Sara lied, "I'm Traci Remington, my father is an FBI agent, I'm here just because it was a bring your kid to work day at my dad's work…we can talk though…if you want…"

"Sure," Kristen sniffed. "Not that anyone believes me…"

"Believes what?" Sara questioned.

Kristen wiped her eyes, "About being possessed!"

At this point, Sara was a bit wary. It was too easy to get Kristen to talk, which just seemed off to her, but she asked, "What makes you think you were possessed?"  
Terror coursed through her at Kristen's next words and her cold tone of voice, "Because I never left." She blinked and her brown eyes changed to pitch black.

Moving to pull out her pistol, realizing that she was in danger, she had no time to react as, what appeared to be black smoke came out of Kristen's mouth and headed for her.

* * *

Downstairs, Sam asked, "Did your daughters have any…problems with each other?"

"You mean besides the usual sibling rivalry?" the father asked. "No."

Dean asked, "Anything out of the ordinary happen recently?"

Sniffing, the mother managed to say, "Kristen said that Julie had been pranking her by pulling on her hair and scratching her…" She broke down into silent sobs once more, her husband putting his arms around her comfortingly.

Exchanging a quick look, Sam said, "We know this is hard for you, but if you could answer on...?!" He broke off as a thud sounded from upstairs. Him and Dean were on their feet in a second, both reaching for their guns.

The father made to get to his feet as well when Dean said, "Stay here. We'll handle it." The father didn't listen though, following them both upstairs to the open room on the left.

"What happened?" Dean demanded as he entered, seeing the girl, Kristen on the floor with Sara crouched over her.

Sara answered, "She passed out…I'm not sure why though…"

"Kristen?!" the father shouted, worriedly, Sam barely managing to hold him back.

"Agent Remington is checking on her!" Sam grunted.

Squatting down next to Sara he felt for Kristen's pulse. Not that he didn't trust his daughter, but he had to be sure, "She'll be fine, Mr. Dobson…why don't you take her downstairs with you while Agent Colt and I discuss how we want to proceed from here."

As Mr. Dobson scooped up his daughter, Sam was watching Sara. Something about how calm she was, how…detached she seemed wasn't adding up. He saw it then; Sara's hand moving towards her pistol, and Sam acted without any true thought, he started to run towards her.

Dean caught Sara's movement out of the corner of his eye, and wondering what she was doing, he got to see the muzzle of her gun starting to get aimed towards him, along with her eyes going completely black. Reacting on instinct, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it until the pistol fell from her hands as she shrieked in pain. The shriek was enough to startle him, and he released her wrist, his hunter instincts clashing with those his paternal ones.

Sam didn't have any such qualms, striking her with a quick, yet powerful punch that left her unconscious.

"I'm not sure if I should be thanking you, or killing you," Dean stated, getting to his feet.

Rolling his eyes, Sam said, "Thanking me. You saw her eyes."

Reluctantly, Dean nodded, "Yeah…I saw them…"

"What just happened? Why were her eyes completely black?!" Mr. Dobson demanded, clutching his unconscious daughter.

Exchanging cautionary glances, Sam was the one to speak, "Your daughter was possessed by a demon which decided to switch to her." He gestured at Sara.

Instead of being in complete denial of demons existing, Mr. Dobson shook his head, "I don't understand…we're a good Christian family…"

"Demons don't really care what faith you are," Dean stated. "They just want a vessel and they'll take whoever they want."

Sam shot Dean an irritated glance as Mr. Dobson said, "What do we do then?"

"Do as we say," Dean stated, ignoring Sam's glance.

Frustrated with Dean, Sam said in a gentler tone, "Go get your wife and meet us at the top of the stairs and we'll explain more from there."

Nodding, Mr. Dobson hurried downstairs with his daughter, his grip never relaxing.

"This is just peachy," Dean muttered darkly.

Sam remained silent, lost in his own thoughts, _why did the demon switch bodies? It could have just as easily tried to kill Dean and I from the other girl's body…unless…_ He didn't' get much further in his thought process.

"Hey!" Dean raised his voice to get Sam's attention. "We need to get a Devil's Trap set up in here and get…" He gestured at his daughter. "Restrained so we can exorcise the demon."

"Right," Sam said nodding. "I'll stay here, you get the rope, spray paint, and salt so that we can keep the family safe as well.

Dean didn't like Sam's tone, it was the one he used when he was trying to keep Dean from doing something, "I think I'll stay here and you can get that stuff."

"Dean…" Sam really didn't want to argue with his brother now. Especially with the situation being so delicate, "I think it'd be better, particularly for you, if you went and got the stuff and I stayed here."

Dean gave Sam an incredulous look, "What? Don't you think I can handle a demon?"

"I know you can handle a demon," Sam stated. "I'm not sure if you can handle a demon that's possessing your daughter."

As much as Dean didn't want to admit it, he knew Sam was right, he'd had conflicting emotions just getting the gun out of her hand-no, the demon's hand. "Fine. We'll do it your way," He said tersely as he walked out of the room.

* * *

Half an hour later after getting the Devil's Trap setup in the Dobsons' bedroom, they were downstairs in the kitchen, dumping salt all around the perimeter of the room. Sam explained, "This will keep the demon from trying to possess any one of you when we exorcise it."

Dean added as he straightened up, "Do not leave this room, and do not break the salt line!"

Mr. Dobson was a bit more skeptical now, "And the salt just magically keeps the demon out?!"

"If you want to look at it that way, yeah," Dean snapped.

Sam intervened quickly, "If you'll excuse us for a moment!" Walking out of the kitchen, careful of the salt line, he glared at his brother, "Look. I know you're upset, but don't take it out on them! They're just the victims here!"

"I know!" Dean said in exasperation. He shook his head, "I just can't believe how stupid people can be…"

Chuckling, Sam nodded in agreement, "I hear ya."

Re-entering the room, Dean noticed that Kristen was now awake and looking very confused. "Now, like we said, stay in this room, don't break the salt line, and no one will be possessed again," Dean was glad to see that his words seemed to strike home as Mr. Dobson nodded, looking anxiously at his wife and daughter."

"We'll come and get you once we're done," Sam added before he and Dean left the room once more.

Walking up the stairs, Sam suggested quietly, "Maybe you should wait outside the room till I'm finished."

"Why?" Dean demanded.

Sam said bluntly, "You might not be as firm or hard as you should be with that demon."

Snorting in contempt, Dean reached the top of the steps first and turned left, entering the bedroom. Sam followed with a resigned sigh.

"I was wondering how long you'd keep me waiting," the demon sneered, the sound a stark contrast to Sara's usual demeanor and manner of speaking. "You couldn't have found a comfier chair?"

Dean had stopped dead as soon as he heard Sara's voice, but Sam didn't walking right up to it and tossing water on it, "Shut up!"

Hissing in pain, the demon was soon chuckling, "My, my. You're taking this far better than I thought you would. Here I thought the famous Winchesters, known for being big softies when it comes to family would be all frozen up with horror." Sara's eyes locked on Dean, "At least one of you didn't disappoint me."

Eyes holding no emotion, Dean chuckled darkly, "Don't get your hopes up there."

"You know she's awake in here," the demon said quietly.

This immediately got Dean's attention, though he managed to keep his face and eyes expressionless.

The demon knew it had both of the Winchester brothers' though, "She's wondering why you're not doing anything. The poor thing can't figure it out. Lots of emotional scars here, you know. All your fault too, Dean."

Sam cast a quick look at his brother only to see Dean's jaw clenched and his fists clenched.

"Poor kid…doesn't have a hope of a happy life, you know, much less a loving family or even a loving father."

"Why are you here?" Sam managed to keep his voice from shaking completely with rage at the demon's games.

A harsh laugh escaped Sara's lips as the demon laughed, "You don't know?" Sara's eyes lit up with delight as Sam and Dean gave the other a confused look. "You really don't know." It chuckled again. "I'm checking on the one of the newest pawns in the game." Seeing that Sam and Dean were still confused it snickered, "Oh, you've played it before. It's a little game called the apocalypse."

"That's not possible," Dean managed to say.

"Oh it is!" the demon said cheerily. "You see, last time, we got a bit impatient, little did we know that not all of the pieces were on the board, or at least, they weren't in play yet. Now however…now, we plan on making sure they're all in play and that Lucifer will come out on top."

"What does this have to do with Sara?" Sam asked quietly.

The demon grinned, the expression looking quite wrong on Sara's face, "It's not a major role like you and your brother's, but it's an important one all the same. Though why it would be this little bitch…!"

Dean had reacted without thinking, back-handing the demon across the face as soon as the wrong left Sara's lips.

Sniggering, the demon went back to its original game, "Now why would you do that? The poor girl just wants her father to save her, but that wasn't expected at all. Aren't you the abusive father?"

"Do it!" Dean snapped at Sam taking several paces away, turning his back on the demon before he did something really rash.

Nodding Sam started to speak:

_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus_

_omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio_

_ infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_

_ omnis congregatio et secta diabolica._

_ Ergo draco maledicte [*a]_

_ et omnis legio diabolica_

_ adjuramus te._

_ Cessa decipere humanas creaturas,_

_ eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare._

_ Vade, Satana, inventor et magister_

_ omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis._

_ Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,_

_ contremisce et effuge, invocato a_

_ nobis sancto et terribili nomine,_

_ quem inferi tremunt._

_ Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine._

_ Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire_

_ te rogamus, audi nos._

_ Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,_

_ te rogamus, audi nos. [*b]_

_ Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo._

_ Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem_

_ et fortitudinem plebi Suae._

_ Benedictus deus. Gloria patri._

As he spoke, Sara's face became contorted with pain, and soon she was screaming in pain, the chair moving back and forth across the circle due to the demon's powers. As he reached the last sentence, Sara's head was thrown back as black smoke erupted from her mouth and headed towards the ceiling and dissipated. Sara's head fell forward, hanging limply to the side.

Dean turned around worriedly once Sam finished, only to see Sam leaning over his daughter, his index and middle fingers on her neck as he felt for a pulse. Before Dean could ask, Sam said, relief evident in his voice, "She's all right…she's all right."

Hurrying over, Dean started to help Sam untie Sara from the chair. Once she was untied, Sam said, "I'm going to let the family know they can leave the kitchen."

Dean merely nodded as Sam left the room, listening as he heard his brother descending the stairs, and eventually Sam's footsteps faded. Tears came unbidden to his eyes and Dean took a deep breath, running his left hand over his face to keep them at bay. The whole thing could have been avoided if he'd taken more precautions to keep his daughter safe, the simplest being not to have taken her along to begin with. _If I hadn't insisted on bringing her here; if I hadn't told her the truth about what Sammy and I do for a living, if I hadn't…_ His thoughts didn't get any further as he heard a slight moan. Whirling around, he was relieved to see Sara was awake, though she hadn't really moved.

Sara felt battered, more emotionally than physically, although her head did hurt where her uncle had punched her and where her father had struck her; it was still the emotional damage that was the greatest, the demon's taunting words ringing in her head still as it not only taunted her father and uncle, but her as well.

"Hey," Dean said softly as Sara lifted her head. "You're all right now." He felt like he had to explain his and Sam's actions, "When Sammy and I did what we did…it wasn't directed at you in any way it was at…"

"The demon. I know, Dad," Sara reassured her father. That much had been clear to her.

Relieved Dean asked, "How are you holding up?"

"All right," Sara lied, trying to push away the thoughts of the demon's words to her. Her father seemed worried enough as it was about her. No need to make it worse.

Not sure if he believed his daughter, Dean said, "Well then, let's head downstairs…"

* * *

It took them hours just to leave the house considering Mrs. Dobson, when not an emotional wreck, was quite a fierce woman and wanted them to not only clean up the salt they'd dumped in the kitchen, which had been an easy enough job, but she wanted them to get the Devil's Trap off the floor, which wasn't really possible. It'd taken a lot of convincing on Sam and Dean's part just to tell her the carpeting, if she really didn't want the Devil's Trap on it, would have to be removed and new carpeting put in. That didn't go over so well. It was only when Dean partially lied, saying he wanted to get Sara home so that she could rest was when Mrs. Dobson relented, temporarily forgetting about the carpet when she could relate to what she assumed Dean was going through.

Once they reached the hotel, the sun had set, and Sam noticed that Sara stuck close to him and Dean, _this really shook her up…_

Practically shooting inside when Dean opened their room door, Dean knew something was bothering Sara, and he was glad they'd switched hotels again, the one they were at in Platteville, and having two beds and a couch. About to claim the beds for himself and Sara, Sam beat him to the punch, "I'll take the couch."

"Fine by me," Dean said, hiding his surprise at Sam's kind gesture.

It didn't take long before they were all asleep, worn out by the day's work; but while Sam and Dean slept peacefully enough, Sara wasn't as lucky…

The demon sneered at her, "Look at how pathetic you are; always relying on Daddy to come to the rescue, oh how he must loathe you! Such a weak child! So easy to break! You can't even talk to your father without doubting yourself! Is it a wonder that they doubt if you can handle their lifestyle?! You're too weak! You've got no backbone! It'd been better if you hadn't been born! How could one such as you really play such a role in the apocalypse as has been predicted?!"

"None of that's true!" Sara shouted at it, trying to wrest back control of her body, even if only for a second to prove the demon wrong. "I'm not just a burden to them!"

"How could you not be a burden? Your father must regret the day he ever even laid eyes on you, much less took you back in!"

Waking up with a gasp, she lay trembling in bed for several seconds, trying to control her fast breathing. Sitting up in bed, still trembling, she got out of bed and walked over to her father's bed, touching his arm as she said, her voice barely audible, "Dad…"

She felt the muscles in his arm tense, and his arm move towards either a knife or gun that she knew must be under his pillow, her first guess being a gun, but then he realized it was her and relaxed a bit as he asked, "What's wrong, kiddo."

"Can…" she had to get up the nerve to ask her question, the demon's words still echoing in her head, "Can I sleep with you?"

Dean sat up then, reaching over and turning on one of the two lamps over the bedside table, "What's wrong?"

She didn't know what to say, either way, the demon's words sounded truthful in her head, _"How he must loathe you! Your father must regret the day he ever even laid eyes on you, much less took you back in! You're weak!"_

"I…I had a bad dream…" she finally answered, not meeting his gaze.

Dean's gaze became thoughtful as he looked at his daughter for several minutes, though to her, it felt like ages. Finally, he asked, "What did that demon say to you?"

"Nothing," Sara answered quickly. Dean raised one of his eyebrows at her skeptically. "It said that I was weak…easy to break…that you must be disappointed in me…" She managed to summarize.

Dean's gaze was still thoughtful, "Demons lie, kiddo. It's what they do. It's why you never trust what one says."

Her trembling became worse, as tears sprang up in her eyes, "But it's true!"

"I'm not disappointed in you," Dean reassured her, setting his left hand on her shoulder to get her attention. Her eyes showed her disbelief, and Dean said more firmly, "I'm not disappointed in you."

"But I am weak," Sara whispered, her tears finally falling.

Not meaning to keep silent, Dean had to think of what to say to reassure his daughter that she wasn't weak. After several seconds, he asked her quietly, "Demons like that don't normally take their sweet old times in drawing weapons. Why do you think it took so long for it to pull out and aim the gun?"

Sara shook her head, "I don't know…"

"Yeah you do," Dean said. "Think about it a bit."

It was a bit hard for Sara to pin down the memory of what happened at that time, her mind still replaying all that the demon said, but eventually, she did capture the memory. She had been struggling to gain control, just like she'd been trying to do the whole time. "It just wanted to take things slow…"

"Is that what the demon said?" He questioned. Sara nodded. "Think a bit harder on it."

The memory became clearer, she could recall having a vague feeling of her arm and hand, and the demon's tone changing slightly at that point up until she lost the feeling, but by then, her father had spotted the movement and reacted.

Dean smiled as he saw the realization enter his daughter's eyes, "You're definitely not weak, kiddo." As Sara wiped her eyes, Dean went back to the original question she asked, "I think it'd be better if you went back to your own bed to get some sleep." Seeing the nervousness in his daughter's eyes, he added, "I'll sit next to you…at least until you fall asleep."

Now reassured, Sara crawled back into her own bed, and Dean sat down on her right side, his legs stretched out in front of him as he reclined against the wall. Sara scooted close to him, her back pressing against his hip and thigh. Unable to stop himself from smirking at her sneakiness of making sure he didn't leave her during the night, he said quietly, "Try to get some sleep."

"Okay…" Sara took a deep breath and added, "Dad…I love you."

Dean gazed down at her, immensely glad that Sara's eyes were closed so that she couldn't see the shock on his face. The shock faded though as he said, "I love you too."

Listening to his daughter's breathing, he had every intention of going back to his own bed once she was asleep. He rested his chin on his chest and closed his eyes, only planning on resting them for a second, but that was all it took for him to drift asleep.

* * *

Sara woke up the next morning, and lifted her head groggily trying to figure out who or what was walking around the room, as she sat up, she spotted her father at the door, about to head out.

About to open the door to head out, Dean noticed his daughter, and took his hand off the doorknob, walking back over to her, "Did you sleep better?"

"Yeah…thanks, Dad," Sara answered.

Dean nodded in approval, "Good." He ruffled her hair, "Hey, I was going to head out and pick up breakfast…want to come with?"

"Yeah!" Sara said happily.

Chuckling, Dean said, "Well hurry up and change, I'll meet you in the car."

Still smiling as he walked out the door, he didn't get into the Impala once he was outside. Instead he leaned against the hood lost in his own thoughts until Sara came outside a few minutes later.

"Hop in," he said as he walked towards the driver's side door and got in.

On a whim, Dean asked, "What do you say you and I find a local diner and just eat their, maybe bring something back for Sammy from a store on the way back?"

"Sure!" Sara said, not wanting to miss an opportunity to spend time with her father.

"All right then," Dean said, smiling as he pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

* * *

Sam was rudely awakened as the hotel room door was thrown open and Dean shouted, "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

"Guh," Sam muttered, still half asleep. He asked once he was a bit more awake, "How is it that you're up earlier than I am?"

Dean threw a grocery bag to Sam, avoiding the question, "Here's breakfast!"

Opening up the bag, Sam frowned, "Why is this box the only thing in here."

"Because, while you were snoring away, Sara and I explored the town," Dean answered brightly.

_That explains your good mood, _Sam thought. Opening up the box, he glared at Dean, "Donuts…really?"

"It was either those or some creepy looking muffins," Dean answered, grinning. Sara was barely managing to contain her laughter.

Shaking his head, Sam set the box aside, "I think I'll eat later."

"Suit yourself," Dean said.

Changing the subject, Sam asked, "What time do you want to drive back to Dodgeville so that I can see if those packages came in yet."

"Actually…"

* * *

"I don't want a tattoo!" Sara protested from the back seat of the Impala as they all headed into the downtown area of Platteville.

Dean questioned, "So you prefer demon possession?"

"No-but…!" Sara didn't really have an argument against that, so she changed tactics, "Isn't this a bit backwards? I mean I'm supposed to be the one wanting the tattoo and you're supposed to be against it."

"Too bad I'm not a typical parent," Dean stated.

Sam added, "Good try though."

Dean parked the Impala outside a building, the front window decorated with a large, evil looking black cat, the words beneath it reading: Black Cat Tattoo.

"Come on," Dean said, getting out of the car, though he left the keys in. Reluctantly, Sara got out of the car as well and followed him.

Dean said to Sam as Sam walked towards the drivers' side of the Impala, "Try to be back here within two hours."

_I hope it doesn't take that long!_ Sara thought, still not thrilled with the idea of getting a tattoo.

"Right," Sam said, giving her a sympathetic glance.

_At least Uncle Sammy is acting normally again,_ she thought as she followed her father into the building.

Dean spoke with the woman minding the front desk, and even signed some papers before he led Sara over to some chairs to wait.

"Dad…is it true that getting a tattoo hurts?" Sara asked.

Dean lied, "No, it doesn't hurt."

It didn't take long for someone to call her name, and Dean walked in with her to show the guy who would be doing the tattoo what design he was supposed to be doing, drawing the tattoo in great detail on a sheet of paper before he left the room, feeling Sara's eyes on his back. He reassured her, "It'll be fine!"

Sara felt a bit abandoned in the room when her father left, but she took comfort in the fact that he said it wouldn't hurt.

* * *

Left to his own thoughts as he sat in the waiting room, praying the guy doing the tattoo would get the tattoo right so that his daughter would be protected from demon possession in the future, just like he and Sam already were, his thoughts went to the fire and shadow demon.

_"Enjoy your year with her, because at the end of it, you'll lose her…"_

At first, Dean's thought went right to the fact that he couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter, and he knew he had to figure out a way to make sure the demon's promise didn't come to pass, but as he recalled that salt didn't work against the demon, his thoughts started to go elsewhere, more towards how he didn't want her life…her young life to end so soon. She had barely experienced the world, and though there were a lot of crappy things in it, there were some great ones too. A plan slowly started to form in his mind, and a smirk appeared on his face.

* * *

At the Dodgeville Post Office, Sam was quickly addressing an envelope to Jody Mills in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Once he finished, he placed two smaller envelopes and a hastily written letter inside before sealing it before he handed it to the worker at the desk who weighed it, and then said, "That'll be two-fifty." Paying the amount, he then asked, "Did any packages arrive for Sam Winchester?"

* * *

Dean smiled at his daughter, who simply glared at him in return. Surprised, he stood up and asked, "How'd it go?"

"You lied," Sara grouched.

Dean blinked, still surprised, "Pardon?"

"It hurt," Sara elaborated, glaring up at him.

"Well…I guess I bent the truth a bit," Dean said innocently.

Unable to keep glaring after her father said that, she shook her head, smiling.

"Turn around so I can make sure it was done properly," he said. Once she had her back to him, he pulled down her shirt collar to look at the tattoo that was centered in between her shoulder blades. It was identical to the ones that he and Sam had on their chests, and Dean nodded in approval.

"Does it sting a bit?" Dean asked her.

Sara nodded, "Yeah…"

"It'll probably sting for a couple hours, but you should be fine after that," Dean said calmly as he led the way out of the tattoo parlor.

Sara wasn't sure if she should believe him or not as she followed outside.

The Impala pulled up as they got outside, and Dean nodded in approval as Sam got out of the car. "They came in," Sam reassured Dean, gesturing to the back seat where a couple of boxes were sitting.

"Thank God!" Dean said, obviously relieved. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Where are we heading next?" Sara questioned as she followed her father to the drivers' side of the Impala.

Sam was the one who answered, "It sounds like there's something supernatural in Idaho."

"Any idea what it might be?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head, "I have some ideas, but none that are definite."

"Let's get going then," Dean said brightly, simply ecstatic to finally be leaving southwest Wisconsin.

* * *

They stopped for the night in Cokeville, Wyoming and once Dean was positive that Sara and Sam were sound asleep, he went outside and got into the Impala, driving out of town until he reached a crossroads.

Getting out of the car, he opened the trunk, pulling out a small box and a shovel. Dean walked to the middle of the crossroads and dug a small hole, large enough to accommodate the box. Double checking the contents of the box, which included a photograph of himself, graveyard dirt, and a black cat bone to name most of the contents. As he set the box into the hole, Dean closed his eyes before he opened them once more and buried the box. Standing up once more, he looked around. When he saw that no one was around he shouted, "Come out! I know you're there!"

"And what could the great, Dean Winchester possibly want?" a female voice asked behind him, and Dean whipped around to face a woman dressed in a black dress, her dark brown hair hanging down to her shoulders, and her brown eyes flashing to red for a split second.

Taking a deep breath, Dean answered her, "I want to make a deal."


	3. Three: Take it Easy

**_I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters in it apart from the ones that come from my own imagination, some information is from the Supernatural Wiki, and of course all errors are mine. Enjoy!_**

**_*Please note that I've only gotten about halfway through season seven of Supernatural and I realized that I somehow missed a couple episodes in the previous seasons (smacks head against desk).*_**

**_Author's Little Blurb: I apologize for how long it took me to write this chapter, it was the hardest one yet due to many reasons including problems with the action scene-including not originally planning on having one, having to go back and redo other areas so that the story flowed better, and then just trying to make sure I kept the characters in character, even while exploring more of their not-much-shown sides. I do hope you like this chapter!_**

* * *

**Three: Take it Easy**

Sara gritted her teeth, though she couldn't keep a moan of pain from escaping past her teeth as Sam put Aloe Vera on the last of her burns.

"Done," he said, setting the plant aside.

"I hate salamanders," Sara muttered darkly, knowing she wouldn't get any sleep that night.

Sam said, "Those fire spirits do get pretty nasty." He glared at Dean, who was sound asleep on the motel room couch. He should be the one doing this! Looking back at Sara, he could see the exhaustion all over her face, and he had to admit, he was pretty tired as well.

For a month now, the three of them had been hunting almost non-stop, and it was definitely starting to tell on them, their reaction times were slower, hence Sara and Dean's burns.

Half tempted to awaken his brother by putting Aloe Vera on his burned hand, Sam decided against it. Dean could treat his own burns tomorrow morning and grouch at Sam for not waking him up then.

"Try and get some sleep," Sam said to Sara, who gave him such a comical expression he had to turn away so that he didn't laugh. Sitting down at the table, he glared at his laptop, if there is another case we need to take I'm going to fling this thing across the room and pretend I didn't see anything. I'll tell Dean that I dropped it or tripped in the night and sent it sliding across the table onto the floor!

Reluctantly, Sam flipped up the laptop and went to work searching for any type of indication that a town or an area had something supernatural going on. Several hours into his work, Sam noted that Sara had managed to go to sleep, though in quite an odd position, resembling a seal sun bathing on a rock, at least she found a comfortable position to sleep in with those burns… Focusing back on scouring for any signs of the supernatural, he worked until morning, Dean and Sara both sometimes awakening briefly to adjust their positions, but otherwise they got some sleep.

Dean woke up when the sun shone through one of the windows directly onto his face. Sitting up he inhaled sharply, he then exhaled, "Son of a bitch!" Looking at Sam, he demanded, "Why didn't you wake me so I could put something on my burns?"

"I figured you needed the rest," Sam muttered wearily, closing his laptop.

Applying Aloe Vera to his burns, Dean managed to ask in a normal tone, "Anything?"

"Nothing that I noticed," Sam yawned.

Dean nodded in approval before he gingerly pulled off his shirt to get at the burn on his right shoulder, "Good! Hopefully when we go to Bobby's he won't have anything for us either!"

Not commenting on Dean's unusual want of rest, Sam stood up, "I'm going to try and get a bit of sleep before we head out."

"You'll get plenty of sleep on the way there," Dean muttered. "It's not exactly a short drive from Georgia to South Dakota!"

"I'm still going to try and sleep!" Sam repeated, flopping onto the only bed. He was asleep within seconds.

Shaking his head, Dean put his shirt back on, grimacing in pain. Sitting down on the couch, he tried to find a comfortable position, but to no avail, "Son of a bitch!"

Hearing her father's favorite saying, Sara woke up, sitting up slowly so as not to aggravate her burns. Even with all her caution, she still winced in pain.

"You look about as well as I'm feeling," Dean commented.

Sara stood up, gasping at the pain, "I really, really, really hate salamanders!"

Chuckling, Dean's tone was serious as he said, "I'm glad you had my back there, but next time don't tackle a fire spirit."

This had them both laughing, since Sara had indeed tackled the spirit to distract it from torching her father. It had worked, just not quite how she'd planned. Dean's burns were worse than hers though, and he had more of them from being taken off guard by the elemental.

Nodding to his wallet, Dean said, "Why don't you go and get some breakfast, make sure to pick up something for Sammy as well."

"Will do," Sara said, walking over to where her father's wallet was sitting on the table. "I'll be back in a bit!"

Walking outside, Sara felt pretty at ease…at first, but as she neared the grocery store, she felt like she was being watched. Hand going slowly towards where she kept her pistol in her jacket, she whipped it out and spun around, but there was nothing behind her, or anywhere for that matter. Frowning, she continued walking, though she was noticeably tenser, and she definitely wasn't relieved when she entered the store. Quickly finding things for her father, Sam, and herself to eat, she paid for them and walked back outside, still on edge. Rounding the corner to start heading towards the hotel, she stopped dead in her tracks, a massive Rottweiler blocking her path.

"Oh crap…!"

* * *

An hour later, Sam awoke to Dean slamming his fist against a wall. "What's up?" Sam asked reflexively.

"Remind me to give my daughter a cell phone so I don't worry about her when she doesn't show up after being gone an hour!" Dean snapped.

Sam yawned, "I'm sure she's fine."

"The grocery store is only a few blocks away," Dean said skeptically. "It doesn't take an hour to get a simple breakfast from one either!"

"Long line," Sam suggested.

"Forget it, I'm going to go look for her," Dean threw on his jacket and opened the door, not closing properly.

Sighing, Sam got up and went to close it, he heard Dean outside suddenly shout, "No! No! No! No! No!" Dashing outside, Sam saw what was causing Dean to shout.

Sitting on the sidewalk was Sara, beside her, was a behemoth of a Rottweiler, its head was several inches above Sara's.

"That's a massive dog," Sam muttered.

Sara stroked the dog's smooth black and brown fur, looking up at her father pleading, "Please, Dad, he's really gentle!"

"No! That thing is not coming with us!"

"I'd take care of him," Sara tried to argue.

Dean shook his head, "The only way that thing is getting into my car is if I'm taking it to the pound!"

Putting her arms around the dog's neck, Sara showed she could be just as stubborn as her father, "He's not going to the pound!"

"It's not going to be travelling all over the frickin' country with us either!"

Before things could get really heated between the two, Sam suggested to Dean, "Why don't we take the dog to Bobby's? I'm sure Bobby wouldn't mind the dog." Sam looked at his niece to help him out.

"I'd be okay with that, Dad," Sara said. "I bet Bruce would like it there!"

"You gave it a name," Dean muttered in despair, knowing he was really didn't stand a chance now. "Fine. The dog can go to Bobby's but that's where it's staying!"

Nodding Sara rubbed the dog's shoulders, the Rottweiler, dubbed Bruce, panted happily, drool dribbling from his jowls.

* * *

Once on the road, and in the car, Dean sat in stony silence, not happy in any way, shape, or form as Bruce drooled all over his beloved Impala and on him, since Bruce had decided that Dean's shoulder was a good place to set his head. I'm going to kill this dog, Dean thought, his grip on the steering wheel tightening all the further. He couldn't believe he was breaking his own rule of no dogs in the car.

"Bruce!" Sara said, and the Rottweiler lifted its head, shifting positions so that it was now laying down, his massive head in Sara's lap as she scratched his ears, trying to make sure the dog didn't annoy her father any more than he already had.

Sam asked Sara for the hundredth time, annoying her and Dean, "You sure he's a stray?"

"Yes, you can see and feel his ribs, his coat's dirty, need I say more?" Sara questioned.

"Just double checking!" Sam defended himself.

Dean muttered, "I've never wanted to be somewhere so badly before."

"Hey, it could be worse," Sam stated.

"How could it be worse?" Dean demanded. "We have to stop at every rest stop to make sure the dog relieves itself, the dog usually ends up peeing on my car, it's going to take us even longer to get to Bobby's, and it keeps getting its slobber all over the place!"

To say the least, it was a very silent and tense ride up to Bobby's.

* * *

Two days later, Dean had never been happier to pull up at Bobby's. Sara quickly opened her door to let Bruce out, and Sam hurriedly got out of the car. As Sara started go out, Dean said, "If Bobby doesn't have any cases for us, you're helping me to clean this car up."

"Okay, Dad," Sara said, trying to keep her tone neutral. Her father obviously thought that helping him clean up the Impala would be a chore, but she didn't consider it that. Not when it meant spending time with him.

Dean had to admit as he got out of the car and watched Bruce trot around Bobby's property and pee on just about every car Bobby had sitting out, the Rottweiler did have a certain humor about him. "I think I can see why you like him so much," he teased.

Sara bumped against his side, glad that her father was back to his usual self now that the prospect of the Impala being dog-free and clean once more was looking brighter.

A grouchy voice shouted from the house, "What in the hell is that dog doing here?"

Dean and Sam both smiled. They'd never be tired of hearing Bobby's voice after losing him once when he'd been shot by a leviathan.

Sam was the one who answered Bobby, "We thought you might like to keep him."

"He'll have to learn some manners first," Bobby grumbled as he came to stand beside Sam, straightening his ball cap.

Sara leaned forward a bit so she could see past her father to get a better look at Bobby Singer, who she'd heard so much about. Bobby was an inch or two shorter than her father, and he had a rugged look about him, his beard and mustache adding to the affect along with his clothes of a vest and a long sleeved, plaid shirt.

"Who's this," Bobby questioned as he spotted Sara.

Dean answered, "This is my daughter, Sara. Sara, this is Bobby."

"Just how old are you?" Bobby asked her, causing Dean to give him an exasperated look.

Sara answered, "Thirteen, soon to be fourteen."

Bobby grunted in acknowledgment of her answer, his gaze thoughtful, which really perplexed Sam and Dean. "Well, why don't you come in?"

Deciding that he'd ask Bobby about the random age question later, Dean asked, "You don't have any jobs for us, do you?"

"No, I would have told you if I did, Idjit," Bobby answered.

Sara had already started to head towards the house when Dean grabbed her shoulder, mindful of where her still healing burns were, "You and I have a car to clean."

Leaving Sara and Dean to work on getting the Impala back to her glorious, clean state, Bobby muttered to himself, "Let's see how smart this dog is." Whistling, he watched as Bruce's head shot up and then the Rottweiler came bounding towards him, luckily for both Bobby and Bruce, the massive dog slid to a halt instead of jumping on Bobby.

"Wow," Sam said. "He seems pretty well trained."

"That or he just knows when he's getting a meal."

* * *

After getting all the supplies he needed from Bobby's garage, Dean said, "We'll start with the exterior and then work on the interior." He tossed his daughter one of the washing gloves and set to work.

Glad that her father was definitely in a better mood, Sara set to work as well, watching how Dean went about washing the car so she could see what he was doing, and to avoid getting a lecture on proper car washing.

While Dean went about washing the Impala, his mind was on other matters, two days until August 21st…God! What am I going to do for her birthday?! Glancing towards his daughter, he was glad to see that she was being as meticulous in cleaning the Impala as he was. Dean had to admit he'd found it odd that his daughter hadn't said or even hinted at anything to do with her birthday, but then again, his daughter tended to surprise him a lot, like tackling a fire spirit for instance!

* * *

"Anything come in yet from Jody?" Sam questioned Bobby as they both watched Dean and Sara washing the Impala.

Bobby said, exasperated, "No. Nothing's come in from Jody for you. What the hell are you waiting to get from her? A Christmas present?"

"No," Sam said. "It's a DNA test result on whether or not Sara is really Dean's daughter."

"Does Dean know?" Bobby asked.

"Not exactly."

"Sam!"

Sam threw up his hands, "Really?! You too?! Am I the only one who thinks that it might be better if we knew she was really his daughter?"

"Have you looked at your brother recently?" Bobby demanded, gesturing out the window at Dean, "I can't recall the last time I saw that boy so relaxed! Can you?! Why would you want to go and ruin that for him?!"

"I don't want to ruin it for him!" Sam tried to explain, "If she really isn't his daughter, then she can have a chance at a normal life!"

"Normal, huh?" Bobby asked skeptically.

"At least it might make him more willing to consider the fact that she could live a regular life," Sam said. "And maybe…maybe he'll let her actually lead a normal life then."

"Sam…"

"Bobby, you haven't seen how he's been treating her the past month! It's like she's just a soldier in training to him!"

Looking out the window, Bobby watched as Dean sprayed his daughter with water from the hose, and feigned innocence. "Do you really think whether she's his daughter by blood or not will really matter to him that much?"

When Sam looked out the window, all he saw was Dean and Sara washing the Impala, and though he noted that Sara's clothes were a bit wet, he assumed she'd leaned against the car a couple times while cleaning it. "Yeah, I do."

"Boy, I think you'd be better in just leaving well enough alone on this subject," Bobby muttered. "But you've already got one foot in the fire, why not put the other one in?!"

"So you don't think I'm doing the right thing?" Sam asked, feeling a bit hurt. He'd been hoping that Bobby would agree with his reasoning.

Bobby shook his head, "In this case? No, Sam."

* * *

Two hours later, Dean was lying under the Impala giving her a tune-up. Sara sat on the sparse grass; Bruce was lying beside her on his side, looking beyond content as she absentmindedly stroked him.

Sliding out from under the Impala to grab another tool, Dean commented, "That dog definitely isn't guard dog material."

Bruce lifted his head, looking quite indignant, though he still looked comical, since he was still on his side.

"Why would he need to be a good guard dog?" Sara asked.

Sliding back under the car, Dean said, "Because that's what Bobby's last dog was."

"What makes you think he's not guard dog material?" Sara questioned.

"Well…he followed you from the store, didn't bark at either me or Sam, even when I was yelling, and he ran up to Bobby when he whistled," Dean explained.

Sara continued to pet Bruce, "Maybe he's just a good judge of character."

"Yeah, and I'm an airplane pilot," Dean muttered.

Knowing it was pointless to argue with her father further on the subject, she just remained silent, figuring her father would continue speaking. It took several minutes, during which Bruce lay his head back down and dozed off, "Since we're going to get a couple days rest…what do you want to do?"

"What do you mean?" Sara asked, perplexed by her father's question.

Dean slid out from under the Impala once more to look at her, "You know, is there anything you want to do for fun?"

"Just me and you?" she tried to clarify.

"If you want; it doesn't matter to me."

"Um…" Sara really had no clue what to say. "I don't know…"

"Let me know when you do think of something," Dean said, sliding back under the car.

My dad is really weird sometimes… Sara decided.

Her father slid out from under the car a few seconds later and stood up, looking quite pleased, "Well…that's done!" His gaze went to Bruce as the Rottweiler sat up suddenly and huffed. "What's wrong with him?"

Sara pointed down the driveway, looking a bit worried, "That."

Looking in the direction she was pointing, Dean spotted the police car pulling up, but he wasn't worried, "Don't worry, kiddo, it's just Bobby's friend, the sheriff."

As Sara stood up, so did Bruce, though the dog didn't seem concerned as the sheriff, a woman, stepped out of the car and greeted Dean warmly, "Hi, Dean. I didn't expect to see you here…you're not here for any particular reason that I should know about…are you?"

"Nope," Dean answered. "Just here to visit with Bobby, sheriff."

Smiling, the sheriff, a woman with brown hair and eyes, spotted Sara, and asked, "Just who is this?"

Dean was a bit uncomfortable as he answered, "My daughter, Sara."

"Really," the sheriff said, giving him a hard look.

"Yeah," Dean said, giving his charming smile to the sheriff before he said to his daughter, "Sara, this is Sheriff Jody Mills."

"Nice to meet you," Sara said.

Jody continued to give Dean a hard look for a few more seconds before addressing Sara, "It's nice to meet you as well…" She paused as Bruce trotted up to her and sniffed at her, though his stance wasn't aggressive in any way, "And who is this?"

"Bruce," Sara answered.

Jody let Bruce sniff her hand before she patted his large head, "Is he yours?"

"No, Bobby's," Dean answered for Sara.

"I see…" Jody murmured. Reaching into her car, she pulled out an envelope, "Well, I'd better deliver this to Bobby."

"Right," Dean said, smiling until Jody had walked past and was near the house. He watched the sheriff enter, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

Noticing her father's expression, Sara asked, "Is something wrong, Dad?"

It took a few seconds before Dean answered, "No. Not at all."

* * *

Sheriff Mills let herself in, startling both Bobby and Sam. "Thought I'd give this to you personally now that I know you're here," she said, setting the envelope down in front of Sam.

"Thanks," Sam said, accepting the envelope.

"I take it the DNA was from your brother and your niece," Jody stated.

"Yeah…" Sam said warily.

Jody shrugged off her jacket, making it clear she would be staying for a while, "Don't worry. I didn't say anything to Dean."

Sam nodded before he opened the envelope.

Bobby noticed how haggard the sheriff looked, "Rough day?"

"You could say that," she said, plopping herself into a chair at the table.

Momentarily distracted from the envelope's contents, Sam asked, "Anything we can do to help?"

Jody laughed, "This isn't in your area of expertise this time, Sam."

"What's going on?" Bobby asked, his interest piqued.

"I suppose if you must know, three brothers decided that they wanted to do their own version of the Winchester brothers' slaughter along a highway…" Jody stated.

Sam felt the need to say, "You do know that that wasn't us, but some monsters impersonating us?"

"Oh, I know," Jody reassured him. "It's just that these guys don't. Plus, they've put their own twist on things, murdering a whole block's worth of families while they're in town before moving on, and they're not very photogenic."

"So you have no idea what they look like?" Bobby asked, sounding incredulous.

Jody sighed, "We have a very vague idea due to some pictures some witnesses have managed to take of them."

"And you're positive they aren't monsters?" Sam asked.

"Oh, they're monsters," Jody stated, her voice cold, "Just not your kind."

Just then, Dean walked in with Sara, Bruce trotting in, hurriedly, after them.

"Dog knows whose sympathies he's got," Bobby commented.

Dean glanced at the dog, "And it ain't mine." He noticed how they were sitting at the table, and he commented, "Are we interrupting something?"

"Nope," Jody said, giving him a meaningful look. "Bobby was just offering me a drink, weren't you, Bobby?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, getting up and walking over to the fridge.

Sam suddenly said, getting up as he set down the envelope, "I just remember there was something I needed to do." As he set the envelope down, he discreetly slid it across the table.

The moment Dean saw the envelope he grabbed it quickly and said, a trace of anger showing in his voice, "Hey!" Sam turned around, feigning innocence. "Take this with you!" Sam accepted the envelope and walked out of the room.

Sara was a bit confused as to what had just happened between her father and uncle, though she knew it had something to do with the contents of the envelope. "Dad…?" she asked cautiously, not wanting to aggravate him further.

Dean ran his right hand over his face, trying to think of what to say to get his daughter out of the room so he could speak with Jody, Bobby, and eventually, Sam, "Why don't you go work on that homework Sammy gave you the other day?"

"Sure," Sara said, knowing better than to argue against the suggestion. Bruce followed her, seemingly like her shadow.

Once she was out of the room and earshot, Dean said coldly to Jody, "So just here to see Bobby."

Jody met his gaze evenly, "Yes. I didn't know what Sam wanted with the DNA until I got here. I didn't even know who the samples belonged to until I saw you with her today."

"Lay off, Dean," Bobby said, returning from the kitchen with three beers.

"Sorry," Dean murmured to Jody, accepting the beer, though he didn't sit down. "Why are you here though?" Jody repeated what she'd said to Bobby and Sam, "So some psychopaths are due in town…need our help?"

"No," Jody answered. "I've got all my guys on it along with extra help from the feds. So you'd do best to lie low while you're in town."

"Sounds fine to me," Dean said, taking a swig from his beer. "Let us know if anything changes, you know we'll help."

Jody smiled, "I know you boys would." Getting up, she put on her jacket, sliding her unopened beer back to Bobby, "Thanks for the offer, Bobby, but I need to get back to town."

"Keep in touch," Bobby said as Jody left.

The door had barely closed behind the sheriff before Dean snapped, "You knew about that DNA test Sam got and you didn't tell me?"

"Oh, get the stick out of your ass!" Bobby snapped right back. "I only knew Sam had something being sent here! He didn't tell me till today about what it was!"

Dean closed his eyes, trying to rein in his temper, "You're right, Bobby…I shouldn't be blaming you…" He sighed heavily. As he opened his eyes he took another swig from the bottle, "I guess I should have known this was coming…I mean I gave him the damn hairs from both of us…I just hoped he wouldn't go through with it…"

"You know he means well," Bobby said quietly.

Dean gave him such a resigned look, "Yeah…but I also know what he'll ask of me if that test proves she's not mine…and I can't bear to be parted from that kid again…I just can't, Bobby…"

* * *

Sam sat on the couch, knowing full well what was coming. Glancing at the envelope, he sighed. I wonder if I can even convince him to at least look at it… He glanced at the door as it opened and Dean walked in, "Don't bother yelling, Dean…"

Dean gave a dark laugh, "Don't bother yelling?" His voice rose as he continued, "Don't bother yelling?! What the hell is wrong with you, Sam? Getting a DNA test and then trying to make me look at it when my daughter is right in the room?!"

"Don't you even want to know if she's really yours, Dean?" Sam demanded. "Wouldn't it put your mind at ease if you knew?"

"I'm not troubled over that fact," Dean stated.

Sam rolled his eyes, "You say that but…"

"But nothing!" Dean shouted. "Any way you look at it she's mine. End of story!"

"You don't know that…"

"Like hell I don't!"

"Dean…if she's not yours by blood…"

"Then she's mine simply because I adopted her," Dean argued.

Sam sighed as he shook his head. Looking up at his brother, he said quietly, "Just…think about looking at it…okay?"

His brother's gaze was cold as he exited the room.

Bobby had been listening to the entire conversation, and he didn't try to hide the fact as Sam walked past. Sighing, Bobby looked into the room to see Dean staring at the envelope like he would an enemy, and Bobby could only imagine what was possibly going through Dean's mind as he reached, seemingly reluctantly, for the envelope.

* * *

I hate math… Sara thought as she worked on the homework her uncle had assigned her the previous day in one of the rooms upstairs. Bruce lay on the floor next to her chair, snoring. "I'm glad you can relax," she said, smiling at the dog.

Feeling a chill run up her spine, Sara gazed towards the window, wondering if a bird was staring at her or something to give her such a creepy feeling. Without warning, Bruce woke up and leapt onto the bed, gazing out the window, his fur rising along his spine and a growl coming from his throat. Within a second, Sara was at the window, pistol drawn and ready for use, but there was nothing outside except a blue car heading down the road.

Turning towards Bruce with a frown, she asked as she petted his head, "What's wrong with you?" Bruce merely panted in response.

With one last pat on the head, Sara went back to her homework. A knock on the door a few seconds later nearly made her fly out of her chair, but she managed to keep her fright hidden.

Sam asked from the doorway, "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, just working on my homework," Sara answered.

"Well…" Sam walked into the room, noting that Bruce was lying on the bed. "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah…" Sara admitted. Sam simply smiled and walked over to assist her with her math.

* * *

Out on the road in the blue car, one of the three men within commented, "This spot looks promising…"

"Only if there's more than one person in it," the man in the passenger's seat commented. "Otherwise it's no fun."

"I take it we're scouting this place out then before we do anything?" An irritated voice demanded from the back. "I really want to just cut something up!"

"Patience, Bro," the driver murmured, turning the car left and heading back into town. "We all want to just rip right into things, but we need to make sure that we pick some really good houses…"

* * *

Dean stared at the envelope in his hands. He knew that nothing would change how he felt about his daughter…how he felt about Sara. She was his regardless of blood or anything else. She was his responsibility. His gaze lifted away from the envelope as he thought what he'd done, I know I did the right thing there… He closed his eyes as another thought followed, but is it really worth it if she's not my blood?! Dean's thoughts went to the night he'd summoned the crossroads demon…

_And what could the great, Dean Winchester possibly want?" a female voice asked behind him, and Dean whipped around to face a woman dressed in a black dress, her dark brown hair hanging down to her shoulders, and her brown eyes flashing to red for a split second._

_Taking a deep breath, Dean answered her, "I want to make a deal."_

_She snorted, "And what could you possibly interest me with?"_

_"You get my ass in hell," Dean said cheekily._

_"And that interests me how?" the demon asked._

_Dean smirked a bit, "New toy to play with."_

_"Cute," the demon said sarcastically. "What do you want in return?"_

_"I want the demon that's after my daughter killed," Dean answered._

_The demon laughed, "You want me to kill a fellow demon?"_

_"There's more to what I have in mind, but, yeah…that's essentially it," Dean stated._

_"That's not in my power," the demon stated._

_A new voice said from behind Dean, "But it is in mine."_

_Turning around, Dean wasn't surprised to see Crowley, looking as suave and composed as ever. Crowley asked, "What else is it that you want in this deal? I can't see you simply throwing away your life."_

_"I want a way out of it," Dean stated._

_Crowley looked severely torn as he weighed the options, "Go on…"_

_"If Sam, my daughter, or anyone else that knows me kills that demon before the year's time it gave me is up…the deal is off…if none of us can kill it before then…you get my soul."_

_"Hmm…you know, Dean…that's quite a tempting offer," Crowley stated. "And I know full well what demon you're talking about…You see there's just a tiny problem…I'm not seeing why this deal should be made. All it seems to do is benefit you." Dean gave Crowley a hard stare, "So, I want to amend your little proposal by adding that you can't leave hell in any way for five years. After all, there are some new tortures that would even make you cringe in fear."_

_Dean's eyes widened in shock, but as he thought about it, Crowley really couldn't keep him in hell. Not really. "I'll still make the deal."_

_Crowley gave a satisfied grin, "Then by all means, proceed."_

_"Yes, sir," the demon said, repeating Dean's terms, "So you have only eleven months to kill this demon before I do, and if you don't, I will kill it at the end of our contracts time…"_

_Dean interjected, "That thing can't kill my daughter either."_

_She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I will kill it before then, and then I'll take your soul once it's dead and you'll be unable to leave hell for five years. Deal?"_

_"Deal," Dean said. The demon started to lean forward, and he had to steel himself as she kissed him. Bile rose up in his throat as they kissed._

_Once she pulled away, Crowley commented, "I didn't expect you to be so willing to end up in hell again."_

_"I've been in purgatory, I don't think things get much worse than there," Dean said, turning to face Crowley._

_Crowley smiled, unsettling Dean, "I look forward to when you end up in hell due to one of my little prototypes, just so I can see that smugness you have ripped out of you."_

"Dean…Dean!" Bobby said, shaking Dean's shoulder.

"What?" Dean glanced at Bobby, coming out of his thoughts.

Gazing at Dean in concern, he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, starting to open up the envelope.

"Dean…" Bobby said quietly. "You don't have to look…you know that…right?"

Dean sighed, "Sam's right, Bobby. It'll put my mind at ease." Before Bobby could say anything, he added, "Sara's my daughter either way. Nothing changes that. But…but it'll at least be confirmed if she's my daughter by blood or just because I adopted her and brought her into this crazy-ass lifestyle…"

"If you're sure," Bobby muttered, stepping away from Dean.

Opening up the envelope, Dean pulled out a paper and opened it up. Bobby tried to gauge Dean's reaction as he watched his eyes reading the letter. After several minutes, he finally asked out of impatience, "Well?"

* * *

That evening, Sara came downstairs and plopped down next to her father on the couch. Dean chuckled and asked, "Homework get the better of you?"

"Yes," she answered. "I can't get the numbers out of my head either!"

Dean was about to pull his daughter into a one-armed hug when Bruce leapt up onto the couch and made space for himself in between them, "Thanks, mutt."

Bruce simply lay down, placing his front half on Sara, who started to scratch his ears again, "He's a good dog."

"One that needs to learn some manners," Bobby commented as he entered the room. "That dog should be outside, but he'll soon learn that he'll only get away with this kind of behavior when you're here!"

Sara simply laughed, while Bruce got more comfortable, kicking Dean as he stretched out.

"Great! I'm going to be kicked off the couch by a dog!" Dean reluctantly stood up and moved to the wall since Bobby was occupying the recliner and Sam was sitting in the only other chair. Bruce simply sighed happily.

Taking a swig of beer, Dean gazed down at Bruce and commented dryly, "Glad someone's comfortable!"

Sara said, "Aw! Leave him alone, Dad!" She rubbed Bruce's side, and the Rottweiler promptly rolled onto his back, exposing his stomach so that he could get it rubbed, and Sara obliged.

Dean fought back a grin; it was hard not to smile at how happy his daughter obviously was at having a dog. He almost felt bad that they couldn't take the dog with…almost.

* * *

The next afternoon, Sara was finding it very hard to focus on what her uncle was saying as Sam droned on and on about how to do a specific type of mathematical formula that she had already forgotten the name of. Since early that morning she'd been "in school" and she really just wanted a reprieve. Sam really seemed to be making up for missing a couple days of home-schooling with gusto. Sara kept hoping that her father would come in and rescue her from her torture, but that hadn't happened yet and she really didn't expect it to either since Dean had been fussing over the Impala.

"…and you're now done for the day," Sam finally said much to Sara's delight. As she shot out of the door, Sam called after her half-heartedly, "And don't forget to do your homework!" He gave a half-smile as he watched Bruce follow her eagerly outside, looking about as happy as Sara was.

Once outside, Sara stretched, glad that her torment had ended. Today was just one of those days where she felt burnt out and didn't want to do much, but her uncle didn't seem to understand that. About to sit down near the Impala, her father said as he finished waxing the car, "Since you're done why don't we work on your shooting?"

"Sure, Dad," Sara agreed reluctantly, though she didn't let it show in her voice. She really wasn't in the mood for practicing her shooting skills, but that just seemed to be how her day was going.

Dean nodded in approval as he went to the back of the Impala and opened the trunk, pulling out a shotgun and pistol along with a bag of cans.

* * *

Glancing out the window, Sam frowned and Bobby commented as he came to see what Sam was looking at, "Something bothering you?"

"Yeah, that," Sam stated.

Bobby asked, "And that bothers you why?"

"Because she's obviously worn out, Bobby," Sam stated. "Dean shouldn't even be asking her to practice when what she really needs is time to be a kid!"

"So you taught her for most of today because you're a saint?" Bobby asked incredulously.

Sam turned to give Bobby a disbelieving look, "She needs to get an education!"

"So how is your brother doing anything different?"

"It's just like our dad was with us," Sam answered. "I mean…come on, Bobby! Dean just wants her to work and be a good soldier rather than let her actually be a kid!" Sam walked away then, through with arguing.

Taking a look out the window once more, Bobby shook his head in bewilderment, "I swear you two know when the other is watching you!"

* * *

Dean handed his daughter both of the guns when he noticed her less-than-enthused expression. Throwing the bag of cans back in, he said, "We'll do this another day…"

"Dad, we can do it today!" Sara said quickly, not wanting to disappoint her father.

"We'll do this another day," Dean repeated as he took both the guns from her and set them back in the trunk before he closed it. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

As her father walked towards the house, Sara commented to Bruce as the Rottweiler came to stand beside her, "Great…I screwed up again…"

* * *

Bobby met Dean at the door, startling him, "Geeze, Bobby! What were you doing? Watching me?"

"So I wanted to see what kind of a father you were turning out to be, big deal!" Bobby said sarcastically. "What are you coming in here for?"

"I wanted to know if you still had those baseball gloves along with a baseball," Dean answered.

"Course I still have them, Idjit," Bobby said. Walking into another room, Dean heard him rummaging around and it was several minutes before he returned, tossing Dean the two gloves and the baseball.

"Thanks, Bobby," Dean said, heading back outside.

Going over to the window, Bobby smiled as he watched Dean walk back to his daughter, tossing her one of the gloves.

* * *

"Think fast!" Dean called out as he threw the smaller of the two gloves to his daughter.

Just managing to catch the glove, Sara was perplexed as to what her father had in mind as he put on the other glove. Following suit, Sara asked, "What does this have to do with hunting?"

"Absolutely nothing," Dean said as he tossed her the baseball.

Still a bit perplexed, Sara returned the ball with a simple toss, "Why are we doing this?"

"Because it's something fun that you and I can do," Dean responded as he caught the ball. "Sometimes we need a break from things." He tossed the ball back to his daughter, noting Bruce's head movement, "Dog! If you even attempt to get that ball you'd better hope I'm not the one that gets it out of your mouth!" Bruce lowered his head though his eyes still followed the ball as it went back and forth between the two.

As Sara started to relax, Dean couldn't help smiling. It was a reassuring thought to know that he could get her to smile, and he wanted to see that smile as often as he possibly could within the remaining time he had with her.

Something must have shown in his eyes to give away what he was thinking since Sara asked as she caught the ball, "Are you all right, Dad?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, catching her return throw. "Just been a long time since I've done anything like this." He gave a half-hearted chuckle, "It's been years really…I can't remember the last time I even tried to forget about hunting even for a minute…" He threw the ball back to her.

"Is hunting really so bad?" Sara questioned, catching the ball. "I mean…you get to help so many people…" She threw it back.

Catching the ball, Dean sighed, "It has its days, kiddo, where it is worthwhile…but most of the time…it's hell." He didn't throw the ball back, shaking his head, his gaze distant, "I really regret that I can't give you a better life than it either… Dragging you into it like I did…" He threw the ball back then.

"I'm glad that you did though," Sara said, her voice very soft so that Dean almost didn't hear her as she caught the ball. "I mean…I know it's not a great life…but I'd still be in the orphanage if you hadn't…" She threw the ball back haphazardly.

Dean had to jump to catch the ball, but he didn't throw it back right away, or you'd be in a happy home with a family that could give you a normal life… A darker thought crossed his mind, or she could be dead… Wanting to get his thoughts away from such a thing, he randomly changed the subject, "I was thinking that tomorrow I'd convince Sammy to give you another break from school." He finally threw the ball back to her.

I wonder if he knows that tomorrow is my birthday…? Sara wondered as she caught the ball. "That sounds fine to me." She threw the baseball back.

"All right then," Dean said as he caught and threw the ball back.

Bruce couldn't resist any longer, jumping up from where he had been lying and catching the ball in his jaws before he darted off, stubby tail wagging.

"That dog is really asking for it!" Dean snapped, starting to follow Bruce. The Rottweiler returned of his own accord though, sliding to a halt a few feet from Dean and play-bowing, his rump in the air and stubby tail still going two-forty.

Sara tried to stifle her laughter as her father muttered, "You sly, cheeky, little…!" He dove for Bruce who leapt away from him, letting Dean land in the dirt. Getting up, Dean muttered, "I get enough of this when hunting, I sure as hell don't need it from a mutt!" Sara couldn't help it, she laughed. "Oh so you find this funny?"

"Yeah!" Sara answered, still laughing.

Dean was about to make a smart-ass remark when he watched Bruce play-bow in front of his daughter, "It looks like it's your turn."

Not looking half as thrilled as she had been before, Sara slowly approached Bruce who kept backing away each time her hand came within six inches of the ball, growling playfully. Eventually Sara dove for the Rottweiler just like her father had and she was no more successful than he'd been.

Snorting, Dean tried to put on a serious face when his daughter glared at him, but he couldn't stop himself from chuckling, "Not so funny when it's you is it?" She rolled her eyes at him as she stood up, though Dean didn't miss her wincing in pain and he watched her carefully, wondering if she'd aggravated her burns. "How about we team up and get that dog?"

Sara nodded as she smiled at her father in response, trying to hide the fact that a couple of her burns were hurting. She assumed she was failing miserably just with how her father was watching her.

Dean was about to ask Sara if she was all right when Bruce trotted happily over and spat out the baseball, play bowing as he barked at them a couple times, "I swear that dog's mocking us!"

"Or saying catch me if you can," Sara suggested.

"Same thing!"

* * *

"Idjits!" Bobby muttered, a smile on his face as he walked away from the window. Now where the hell is Sam? Surely he can hear that ruckus outside?! Walking into the living room, Bobby snorted, figures! He's got headphones in so that he can't hear anything that's going on outside! Slightly annoyed, but unable to completely blame Sam for wanting to relax, Bobby moseyed back over to the window, amused with what was going on outside.

Bobby had to admit that Bruce was one smart dog, always staying out of reach of both Sara and Dean, never getting fooled into a spot where he would be caught and always managing to wiggle his way out of it…sometimes literally! The game only ended when the Rottweiler lay down on the ground, spat out the ball, and lay there panting happily, his stubby, little tail still wagging.

I'll make a guard dog out of him eventually, especially with the brains he's got! Bobby thought, amused as Sara plopped down next to the pooped out Rottweiler, Dean merely picked up the drenched baseball, shooting the dog a half-hearted dirty look before he started making his way towards the house, Now what does he want? I don't want that drool covered ball!

* * *

Dean barely got into the house when Bobby said, "Throw that thing in the trash I don't know why you brought it in here!"

"It was just an excuse to ask you a couple questions," Dean said calmly, throwing the baseball into the trash and started washing his hands, "My first question is what was with your random age question the other day?"

"Can't I ask how old she is?" Bobby countered, avoiding the question.

Dean dried off his hands, "Not before you greet her back."

"What was the other question you had?" Bobby asked, changing the subject, his look saying the other subject was closed."

Giving Bobby a look that said the subject wouldn't remained closed forever, as he reluctantly asked, "What should I do for Sara's birthday?"

"And here I thought you wouldn't be concerned with something like that," Bobby said, not meaning any harm by the statement.

Dean made an exasperated sound, "Damn it, Bobby! I'm serious! I don't want to have her think that I don't care!"

Now if only Sam would walk in, or at least take off his headphones, Bobby thought. "Just spend the day with her, Dean. Take her to see a movie, go to a park, hell you can do just about anything really with her so long as it's just the two of you."

"So you don't think I should do something that includes you and Sam?" Dean tried to clarify.

"Hell, there'll be time for that later," Bobby stated. "Or at least we hope so…all else fails, Sara will feel like she means something more to you than just someone who you give orders to."

"You've been talking with Sam," Dean stated, shaking his head and closing his eyes for a second. "Well, I guess I'll spend the day with her on Wednesday."

* * *

Sitting next to Bruce, Sara rubbed her left shoulder that burn in particular giving an annoying throb of pain that wouldn't go away. Never, ever tackling a fire spirit again! Never! She figured her burns were the main reason for her exhaustion, even if they'd had time to heal a bit, a couple of the worse ones, like her shoulder, would give throbs every now and then, though she tried not to let her father or uncle know.

"That burn bothering you?" Dean called out as he got nearer to Sara after leaving the house.

Silently berating herself for not noticing that he had exited the house. "Yeah," she admitted reluctantly.

"You should have let Sammy or I know," her father stated. "Any other burns that still haven't healed just yet?"

"A couple," Sara admitted once again.

Dean frowned, "You really do need to tell me things like that, kiddo. You don't need to endure the pain."

But you and Sam do! Sara wanted to shout. She hated feeling like a burden to her father and uncle.

"Don't give me that look," Dean said, giving her a fake stern-look. "Sammy and I have had all our lives to get used to dealing with pain, you haven't."

Deciding that looking away from her father was best, she looked at the ground, but I still don't want to be a burden…

"Ah, kiddo," Dean sighed, sitting down next to her, "You're beating yourself up over nothing."

"How come you always know what I'm thinking?!" Sara asked, wanting to know what gave away her inner thoughts.

Dean smiled, "You have very expressive eyes, just like your old man."

"Great," Sara muttered. She added as an afterthought, "How is it that Uncle Sammy can't tell what you're thinking all the time then?"

"I've learned how to keep most of my feelings from showing," Dean answered truthfully, "it's part of the job, after all, I can't hide what I'm feeling or thinking all the time though."

"I need to learn how to do that," Sara muttered.

Dean chuckled, "It takes a lot of practice, kiddo…unfortunately…you'll get plenty of it."

"How long are we going to stay here, Dad?" Sara questioned, quickly adding, "I mean, it's nice to relax, but…"

"We'll be leaving once Bobby gets word of something that sounds like our kind of gig," Dean answered. "So enjoy this while it lasts since we don't get breaks like this often. So don't get used to it."

"Right," Sara murmured, starting to stroke Bruce's head. This didn't last long though as Bruce lifted his head suddenly, ears pricked as he listened to something only he could hear before he took off towards the house. "I take it as a sign that it's dinner time."

"I think you're right," Dean agreed, getting to his feet. "Let's head back over there."

* * *

Later that evening, while Sara had fallen asleep in the recliner, Bruce lying on the floor next to the chair, Dean, Sam, and Bobby where sitting in the kitchen, discussing possible cases, though none of the crimes were out of the ordinary, or if they were, they already had hunters in the area to cover them.

"I'm starting to get bored," Dean muttered.

Sam said, "At least I have time to give Sara proper lessons."

"Speaking of lessons, give her the day off tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Because I'm telling you too," Dean's tone said that this fact should have been obvious.

Sam frowned, "Fine, but if I find out that it's just so you can train her more in hunting, I'm going to drag her back in here for her schooling!"

"Trust me, it's not for hunting," his brother stated.

Before Sam could ask Dean what he could possibly have planned for tomorrow, he heard tires coming up the drive, and he watched Bobby go over to the window and look outside. Neither Sam nor Dean relaxed until Bobby said, "It's just Sheriff Mills…I wonder why she's stopping by here at this hour."

"It's not like it's late," Dean commented, glancing at the clock that was displaying nine-thirty as the time.

"Still…" Bobby muttered, going to open the door before the Sheriff could knock. "What brings you here at this hour?"

"Checking to make sure you all are still alive," Jody stated.

Sam was concerned as he asked, "Have those serial killers struck?"

"Not yet…" Jody admitted, "That's what worries me. No one has seen any strange cars, and it's just…" She shook her head, before she said, "Well, I know you're all still alive so I need to keep patrolling. I can't assume that they'll just pass on through this town thinking it to be too small."

"We hope you catch them," Dean said quietly.

Jody managed a small smile, "I know you do. Just stay on alert, all right?"

* * *

"Still bored?" One of the three men within the house asked, a white mask covering his face, only his blue eyes were visible along with his brown hair. Putting the muzzle of his pistol against the back of his victim's head. The terrified woman screamed, though the sound was muffled by the duct tape that was covering her mouth. Tears streamed down her face, her brown eyes wide with fear.

"Nah," another masked man said, wiping a bloodied knife on his pants as he entered the room. Though he was shorter than the other man, he shared the same hair color, though his eyes were blue-gray in color. "I hope the last house is as fun as all these others have been."

The woman screamed again as the last man entered the room carrying a bloodied pitchfork that was bloodied and still had bits of flesh on it. He was taller than the other two, though he shared the same brown hair, but instead of blue eyes, his were brown, "Why don't you finish up now that we're done so we can move on to the last house."

"With pleasure," the first man said, pulling the trigger.

* * *

Sara woke up to find the house dark. Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall, she could just make out the time. It's only one in the morning?! She thought in disbelief. Sighing in exasperation, she tried to readjust her position and fall back asleep, but to no avail. Between Bruce, her uncle, and her father's snores, she knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep anytime soon. Plus, she just felt restless. Deciding to take a walk around Bobby's property, she carefully stood up, making sure that she didn't step on Bruce.

The Rottweiler lifted his head as Sara stepped over him and she said, "Stay here." Whining, Bruce laid his head on his paws and watched her enter the kitchen.

Nearly jumping with fright as she walked into the kitchen and found Bobby sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning a pistol; she didn't even get a chance to say anything as Bobby asked her, "Can't sleep?"

"No," Sara admitted. "You?"

"Nah," Bobby answered, "Too much on my mind to sleep. So what were you planning on doing?"

"I was just going to walk around the property," Sara answered.

Apparently finished cleaning the pistol, Bobby slid it across the table to her, "Take that with you."

Not questioning Bobby's behavior since it was a rarity that she ever went anywhere without a pistol or gun of some sort anymore, she simply nodded at him and walked outside.

Bobby watched Sara walk outside before he headed upstairs to get a shotgun that he could start cleaning. He had no intention of sleeping that night. Not while those serial killers were on the loose. He just hoped that he was simply being overly cautious by staying up and keeping watch. Finding a shot gun, he walked back downstairs and gazed out the window, keeping an eye on Sara while she was within his line of sight, just to be on the safe side.

* * *

Pulling up in back of the Singer Auto Salvage, the three men got out of the car and went to the trunk, pulling out their weapons of choice before they started to head towards the yard where many rusty, broken cars were sitting, intent on reaching the house where they knew their next victims were.

"Ready to have the best fun of the night?" the tallest one asked as he twirled his pitchfork in his eagerness.

"Of course," the other two answered as they walked deliberately into the yard, though they were still cautious, eyes on the house for any signs of life.

* * *

Inside the house, Dean was awakened by a low, growling sound followed by the sounds of nails scratching against the floor and then clicking on the floor, the sound moving towards the door that led to the kitchen.

Warily, Dean sat up slowly, looking for the source of the sound. His mind didn't register that the sound was coming from the Rottweiler right away, but once he did, he started to reach for his gun, saying in a low voice, "Sam!"

"I'm awake," Sam said in the same low voice, reaching for his own gun.

"If there's one thing I've learned," Dean said in the same low tone, "It's that that dog doesn't growl…not without a damn good reason." He noticed that Sara wasn't in the room, though he hoped that she was simply using the bathroom.

To say that Bruce looked different was an understatement as the Rottweiler growled at the kitchen door. Bruce was a completely different dog, his hackles raised along his spine, head lowered, and teeth bared as he continued to growl, the sound a stark contrast to earlier when it had been light and only in the dog's throat. Now it was settled deep in his chest, and it was obvious that something had set him off.

Getting slowly to their feet, Dean and Sam walked over to the door, each standing on either side of it. Dean, being the one closest to the handle, nodded at Sam before he threw the door open, Bruce shooting through it.

Bobby was standing, gun aimed at the door, but when he saw that it was only Sam, Dean, and Bruce, he demanded, "What is wrong with you idjits?! Bursting through here like…" He trailed off as he noticed Bruce now growling at the door to the outside, "Something ain't right if that dog's acting like that."

"We know," Dean said, moving slowly to open the door. His pace quickened to a run when he heard a gunshot from outside, followed by another shot, and he flung the door open, trying to keep the Rottweiler's dark body in sight, though he soon lost the dog to his sights, "Son of a bitch!"

* * *

Sara was walking through the cars when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Gazing around warily, she slowly drew her pistol as she cautiously moved towards one of the cars to use it as a barrier. Just as she reached it, she heard a shot go off and saw a bullet hole get made into the car. Diving to the other side of the vehicle, she peered up over the hood, and spotting a figure fired at it, before she had to hunker down for a bit as whoever was in the yard with her fired another shot.

Firing off a quick shot without really looking to see if the figure was still there, she waited for a retaliating shot…it never came though. Cautiously, she peered over the hood of the car she was sheltering behind. Not seeing anyone, Sara stood up slowly, gazing around for any signs of movement. A shot sounded in the distance, and worry for Bobby, her uncle, and father made her move towards the sound in a hurry, though she kept gazing around for any signs of movement. Hearing the crunching of gravel behind her, Sara whipped around and tried to get off a shot, but something hard jabbed her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and then a fist collided with the side of her head and she went flying, hitting the ground hard, the pistol sliding from her grasp.

* * *

Sam and Bobby caught up with Dean outside, and Bobby suggested, "We need to split up. Something tells me it's those three serial killers."

"You and Sam go one way," Dean stated, his tone indicating that he didn't want any argument. "I'm going to see if I can find where that dog went." He didn't need to ask if Sara was outside, the shots had told him that she was definitely somewhere on the property, most likely in the yard, and he was regretting not telling his daughter about the serial killers.

Bobby sighed, "All right. Sam and I will go one way, you go the other. Just do me a favor and be careful!" Dean simply nodded as he attempted to figure out where Bruce had darted off too.

Walking carefully through the rows of cars, Dean was on high alert for any signs or sounds of his daughter, Bruce, or the serial killers. There wasn't any warning as he heard a shot and he ducked down as he heard glass break on the car's passenger window, "Son of a bitch!" Once another shot was fired, he stood up and took quick aim at the figure he could see, their white mask sticking out like a sore thumb and fired. "Damn it!" He swore as another shot was fired from the serial killer.

* * *

Bobby and Sam were walking slowly through the rows of cars as well, they allowed a gap to form between them just as they each looked for any signs of Sara or the serial killers. Sam stopped as he heard shots go off like no tomorrow, and his eyes showed how worried he was about Dean. Seeing something move in his peripheral vision, he started to turn towards it. He felt someone grab his right hand, trying to wrest the pistol from him.

Grunting as the force of the person's charge knocked them both to the ground, Sam kicked the guy off, though the guy was on his feet in an instant, knife drawn.

He wasn't standing for long as a shot sounded and he crumpled to the ground to reveal Bobby standing behind him. Bobby commented to the dead body as he walked over to help Sam up, "Never bring a knife to a gun fight."

* * *

Across the yard, Sara managed to regain her breath just in time as the guy wearing the white mask tried to stab her with the pitchfork. She managed to roll under a car, rolling to the other side, though not coming out from under it completely since she was weaponless. Hoping the guy would give up, she used her father's favorite phrase as the tines of the pitchfork appeared under the car and were getting too close for her liking, "Son of a bitch!" The pitchfork didn't quite reach her though, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

After several more attempts of trying to get her with the pitchfork, Sara swore as she watched the guy take a knee, and this time, the pitchfork would definitely reach her.

Thinking quickly as she watched the pitchfork come at her in a quick jab. She dragged herself forward so that the pitchfork, if her plan didn't work, would hit her legs instead of any vital organs. Luckily, her plan worked as she lifted her legs enough so that the pitchfork went under her legs, and she quickly brought them down on the pitchfork so that the guy couldn't pull it out.

She had underestimated the guy's strength as she felt him tug at it once and then chuckle, "Nice try, kid." A shout of dismay escaped her as she was dragged towards the guy, though she released the pitchfork before she had quite made it out. Sara attempted to scramble back to the other side, but to no avail, a hand grabbing her left ankle and hauling her out none to gently.

* * *

Dean was growing really tired of dealing with the serial killer. Standing up, he took careful aim, and he couldn't help smirking when he heard the shots, but no bullets came even close to him, guess your first shot was just dumb luck. He pulled the trigger and he was satisfied as the white mask fell backwards.

Trying to make up for lost time, Dean sprinted through the car rows, and when he didn't hear or see anything he started to get extremely worried about his daughter's safety.

When he hadn't seen or heard anything for several minutes, he stopped, breathing heavily as he tried to catch even a faint sound. Hearing a faint shout that he recognized as his daughter's he sprinted in that direction. As he got closer, he heard a man speaking. Slowing down, he started to advance cautiously, not wanting to endanger his daughter any farther by bursting in on the scene.

Before he had even taken a couple steps, he heard a loud bark, followed by ferocious snarling and screaming. Throwing caution to the wind, Dean was once again sprinting towards the sounds, praying his daughter was all right.

* * *

Bobby and Sam were walking more cautiously through the rows of cars, neither saying anything as they kept an eye out for any signs of the remaining two serial killers.

They both paused as they heard screams of pain, and they only had to glance at each other before they hurried towards the sound.

* * *

The guy placed a foot on the lower part of Sara's chest to keep her from getting away, and as he lifted up the pitchfork to strike at Sara's chest, she noticed the maniacal delight showing in his brown eyes, the only visible feature behind the mask. Her mind was racing as she tried to think of something she could do to keep herself from getting killed.

A loud bark distracted the guy as he looked up to see the source of the sound. Sara heard the thud of something heavy landing on the hood of a car, before she heard the snarling. She recognized Bruce's black and tan fur as the Rottweiler sailed through the air and hit the masked guy square in the chest, and they hit the ground, the guy screamed in pain.

Sara scrambled away from the guy and got to her feet quickly, turning around to face him, though part of her wished she hadn't. Bruce was mauling the guy, though the serial killer wasn't ready to give up just yet, as he started to reach for the pitchfork handle.

Dean arrived at the scene just as the serial killer got his hand around the handle, but that was as far as he got as Dean took aim and fired, ending the serial killer's life.

Bruce leapt away from the serial killer as soon as he heard the gun shot, releasing a yelp of surprise, though he was obviously unhurt, just startled.

"Sara?" Dean asked, turning away from the mauled body.

Sara turned as she heard her father, and she answered his unspoken question, "I'm fine, I look worse than I actually am."

Her father still looked her over before he was satisfied that she really was all right. They both turned as they heard more footsteps, and Dean had his pistol at the ready, though he lowered it once he realized it was only Bobby and Sam.

"You two all right?" Sam asked, having obviously been worried about his brother and niece.

"We're fine," Dean answered. "Though I can't say as much about that guy."

Bobby shook his head as he took in the serial killer's mauled body, and the single bullet wound on his head. Bruce crept over to Sara's side, giving Dean worried glances that he'd fire the gun again.

Sara patted the top of Bruce's head, not allowing the dog to lean against her since he was covered in blood, "Tell me again who was it that said he wouldn't make a good guard dog?"

"I'll admit it, I was wrong," Dean said. "I didn't think he had it in him."

Bobby muttered, "I need to go call the Sheriff, anyone else care to head back to the house with me?"

* * *

The next morning, after their late night and having to explain all that had happened to Sheriff Mills, along with reassuring her that Bruce had not been the one to kill one of the three serial killers. It was amazing that any of them were up before noon, but almost all of them were, save two: Sara & Bruce.

"At least Jody said she'd make sure everything was taken care of and that we won't be bothered by the media," Sam muttered, pouring himself another cup of coffee.

Bobby snorted, "Of course she did! Doesn't want me to give the town a bad reputation by cussing out the reporters!"

Dean smirked, "Yeah, that's the last thing the sheriff wants." He noticed Sam glancing towards the living room out of the corner of his eye and grouched, "Would you quit checking to see if she's up?!"

"I don't get it," Sam stated. "You asked for her to have today off, and you had to have a reason! Unless you're trying to tell me that you knew those serial killers were going to come here?"

"Hell no," Dean responded.

Sam was exasperated, "Then why did you ask for her to have the day off from her schooling if you're not going to do anything with her today?"

Dean didn't answer, merely standing up, "I'm going to see if I can get a couple more winks of sleep…"

"Dean!" Sam shouted, before he threw up his hands in exasperation as the kitchen door closed behind his brother. "I can't understand him!"

"Let him be," Bobby said.

"But-!"

"Just how old are you? Three?" Bobby demanded. Sam gave Bobby a disbelieving look that he was being asked such a question. "You don't have to know everything that your brother has on his mind!" Before Sam could even start to argue, Bobby snapped, "Look, if you really need something to do today because you're bored, just ask your brother if you can borrow the Impala and go drive someplace, I doubt he'll be using it today."

Sam raised one eyebrow incredulously, "Ask Dean if I can borrow the Impala…? Are you serious?"

"No, I'm being funny!" Bobby said sarcastically in answer.

Sighing, Sam exited the kitchen and walked to the living room, "Dean…"

"What?" Dean asked from his position on the recliner, his eyes closed.

"Would you mind if I borrowed the Im-!" He didn't even get to finish his question as Dean tossed the keys to him.

"Just this one time," Dean stated, his tone serious even if he wasn't giving Sam his usual look of "one scratch on her or one thing out of place and I'll kill you".

Utterly perplexed, Sam walked back into the kitchen and as he started to leave, he heard Bobby mutter, "Idjit!"

* * *

As soon as Sam left the living room, Dean opened his eyes and leaned forward in the recliner, watching his daughter as she slept peacefully. So much for having a father-daughter day followed by a small birthday celebration.

Bruce woke up, his black and tan coat shining from his bath last night. It took the Rottweiler a few seconds to fully wake up before he started to lick Sara's face, his stubby tail wagging.

"Wha?" Sara murmured, sitting up slowly as she put out her left hand to fend off Bruce's licks. Apparently waking up a bit more, she asked as she yawned, "What time is it?"

"About ten thirty," Dean answered. Sara groaned in response. "You can go back to sleep if you want, kiddo."

"No, I'm up," Sara said, adding silently. I'm not going to sleep through my birthday…

"Well, since you're up," Dean said as he got out of the chair, "Anything you'd like to do today?"

Does he know? I really don't want to ask… Sara thought. "Um…" She desperately tried to think of something to do, "Take Bruce to a park and throw a ball around for him?"

"That's what you want to do today?!" Dean was stunned at her choice.

Maybe he does know…but I really can't think of anything else! "Yeah, I mean, we'll be leaving soon…right?"

"Yeah…right," Dean agreed, though he still didn't look thrilled. He tried to look on the bright side, "Well, at least he won't be in my car!"

"Why?" Sara asked, surprised.

"Sam decided that he needed to do something that required a car, and I figured you'd sleep longer, so I let him take it."

"Oh!" Sara said, not sure how she should really respond.

"Well, let's go see if we can find a park that allows massive dogs," Dean said, leading the way into the kitchen. He asked Bobby, "I need to borrow one of your cars. No vans or station wagons!"

"Here," Bobby said, sliding some keys across the table. "Blue Mustang, only one on the property…at least that's blue."

Dean grabbed the keys, "Thanks, Bobby."

He was almost at the door when Bobby said, "Dean!"

Turning to look at Bobby, Dean could tell that Bobby wanted to speak with him alone. With a sigh, he tossed the keys to his daughter, "Try and find the car."

"All right," Sara agreed, though she was definitely perplexed. She held open the door for Bruce before following the Rottweiler outside.

"Well?" Dean questioned, a bit impatient to go out and spend time with his daughter on her birthday.

"What were the results of that DNA test?" Bobby asked, since he'd never gotten an answer.

"What do you think, Bobby?"

"Boy-!"

"All right!" Dean said hurriedly before Bobby could really get on a role. He grinned then, "She's definitely mine, I thought that much was obvious." Before Bobby could ask any more questions, or more likely lecture him, Dean shot out the door.

Bobby shook his head, his expression hard to read, "Idjit!"

* * *

Managing to find the park, Dean leaned against the Mustang while Bruce and Sara played, definitely not what I had in mind… Dean figured he could at least make the best of the situation, and he watched Sara throw a tennis ball for Bruce over, and over, and over, and over, and over (you get the idea) again. That dog doesn't tire easily!

"You know," Sara complained, her arm getting tired. "You could throw the ball for him too, Dad!"

Dean chuckled, "This was your idea!"

Having no response to that, Sara continued to throw the ball for the, apparently, tireless Rottweiler. After many more throws, Sara walked over to where her father was reclining against the car, and sat down, leaning against the rear tire, "I surrender!"

Unable to contain his laughter, Dean said, "Too bad that mutt isn't done yet!"

Sara moaned as Bruce spat the ball out of his mouth and stood expectantly, his stubby little tail wagging furiously as he waited for Sara to throw the ball. "It won't even go far enough anymore," she complained as she reached for the ball.

Before she reached it, Dean bent down and grabbed the ball, he threw it quite a distance, Bruce giving a yip of delight as he tore after the ball.

"Show off!" Sara grouched, pushing his leg.

Dean gave her a look of mock horror, "So I help you out and that's the thanks I get?"

"Yeah," Sara answered, smiling.

He somehow managed to give a convincing frown while fighting back a smile, as he sat down next to her, "I see how it is! Glad to know I'm appreciated."

Not taking her father seriously at all, she shoved his shoulder with her own, "Yep, so underappreciated!"

Unable to contain his laughter any longer, Dean pulled her against him, and asked, "So what are you going to do now? Shoving won't work."

"This!" Sara said, as she squirmed, Dean releasing her after he let her struggle a bit. They were soon rough-housing, Dean having more fun, and laughing more than he had in a long, long time.

The rough-housing didn't last long though, as Bruce, returning with the ball, panting from his mad dash after the tennis ball which had bounced and rolled quite a ways, spotted the pair having fun without him and put on an extra spurt of speed, tackling Dean.

"Dog!" Dean managed to shout once he got his breath back, having had it knocked out of him by the Rottweiler. He pushed Bruce off his chest and wiped the slobber that had dripped from the dog's mouth off his face.

Sara was laughing so hard that she was doubled-over, unable to stop laughing either. Bruce didn't help by bounding over to her and licking her face, trying to determine what had made her so happy. By the time she'd recovered, she had to fight back a sigh of frustration at Bruce as well. The father-daughter moment had ended, her father leaning against the Mustang once more.

"Sometimes, Bruce…" Sara muttered as she pulled the sopping tennis ball out of his mouth, "You have bad timing!" She threw the ball as hard as she could. Even though she'd never had a "normal" family, Sara knew that her father didn't fit the typical description. The past few days he'd been more like a typical father, but it was still like the usual as well. One minute, her father would want to have a father-daughter moment, the next, he'd prefer to keep her as far away from himself as possible. Sara was confused by this, and she still wasn't sure if she was to blame for his drastic change in moods, or if it was just how he was.

* * *

Bobby glanced up as Sam walked in ten minutes to four o'clock, glad to see that Sam looked a bit more relaxed than he'd looked the entire time he, Dean, and Sara had been at his place, "Long enough of away from your brother?"

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "Though I did have to fill the tank so he wouldn't bitch at me later."

Bobby muttered, "He'll find something wrong and you know it."

"But that's normal," Sam answered. "Might be nice to have things feel normal for once!"

"No such thing as 'normal'," Bobby stated.

Dean and Sara walked in then, Bruce being the first to enter the kitchen though, looking for his dinner, "Greedy mutt!" Dean said as he entered the kitchen, followed by Sara.

That's normal… Sam thought. Neither Dean nor Sara was smiling, and they had a distance between them. Dean's not Dad, Sam tried to tell himself, but it was hard not to see a similarity between their father and Dean. He does so many things like Dad, and I don't even think he realizes it…

"We're heading back out," Dean stated.

Bobby was a bit surprised, "Not staying to eat?"

"We'll eat out," Dean answered before he glanced at Sam, holding out his hand, "I need my keys."

Sam handed him the keys as he stood up, simply assuming he was going along as well.

"Why are you getting up?" Dean asked, giving Sam a confused look.

"You said we're heading out…" Sam was now confused as well.

"Yeah, we as in…" Dean touched his daughter's shoulder, "We." He didn't want any other interruptions to the time he wanted to spend with his daughter.

Sam sat down, feeling awkward, "Right…" He said to Sara, "Have fun!"

"Right!" Sara said brightly.

Keys in hand, Dean led the way back outside, and Sara followed, sighing in resignation as her father walked around the Impala, making sure there wasn't a thing wrong with the car, "So far so good…" Dean muttered. "Let's see if he remembered to top the tank off…" He got into the car, and Sara really wasn't sure if he wanted her to get in right away or not.

About to start the engine so he could check the gas gauge, Dean noticed that his daughter was still standing outside. Getting back out, he asked her, "Something wrong?"

"No, I just…" Sara trailed off, unsure of how to explain her father's obsession with the Impala to him. He was giving her his look that said he wouldn't let the subject drop, so she mumbled, "I wasn't sure if you were going to inspect the interior as thoroughly as the exterior…"

Dean barely managed to hear her, but he did hear her. Shaking his head as he chuckled, he teased, "I would have told you to wait if I was going to be that thorough." Noticing that Sara didn't seem to take it as light-heartedly as he would have hoped, he added, "When it comes down to it, I do love this car, kiddo. She holds a lot of fond memories, but she's not a living creature." He tried teasing her again, "Unless you're trying to tell me that you think you have a car as a sister."

This time he got the desired response as his daughter laughed, "No!"

"Then get in," Dean said, smiling.

They both got in, and Dean said as he started the engine, nodding slightly in approval as he noticed the filled tank, "Why don't you check the glove box for me?"

He just didn't want to check everything in the interior himself! Sara thought, forcing herself not to sigh as she opened the glove box.

Having a good idea of what went across her mind, Dean smiled as he watched her eyes widened in surprise as she pulled out a small, wrapped box.

Definitely surprised, and a bit perplexed, Sara asked her father as she held the brown-paper wrapped box, "What is this?"

"Why don't you open it?" Dean suggested.

Still perplexed, Sara started to feel excited, maybe he really did remember my birthday all this time! Ripping off the paper, she opened the small box to see a cell phone resting in it, "A cell phone!" She was definitely happy with the gift, if that was what it was.

Dean nodded, "It already has all of Sam and my numbers in the Contacts, and the phone I usually use is the first number it'll dial." He added as an afterthought, "Bobby's number is also in there."

"Thanks, Dad," Sara said, leaning over to hug him.

This brought a smile to Dean's face again, "I'm glad you like it, kiddo." Rubbing her shoulder for a few seconds, he was the first to pull away as he asked, "You hungry?"

* * *

Glancing at the clock, Sam was amazed that Dean and Sara had been gone so long, granted, it didn't help that Bruce punctuated every hour by sighing heavily, moaning, or whining, making sure it was clear that he was missing Sara. "Eleven," Sam said, not really expecting any response from Bobby.

"Means they're either having a good time, or in a heap load of trouble," Bobby commented. "And since Dean hasn't called, I don't think they're in any trouble. Unless you have a gut feeling that says otherwise?"

"No," Sam answered. He knew Bobby was probably right, but he still couldn't help worrying,

"Relax, Sam," Bobby said, though his tone indicated that he was getting irritated. "You're as bad as the dog!" Sam wanted to argue that he wasn't, but he didn't get the chance to argue his case. "Look, your brother and niece are enjoying themselves, making the most of this rare time off, you should too! You're not hunting!" Bobby glanced at a paper he was reading, "Though that's bound to change…I'm thinking I'm going to have to ask you boys to go here…no hunters in this area…" Bobby went right back into what he'd been trying to say, "Just find something to take your mind off them, relax! Take it easy! Just quit acting like this idjit!" He nudged Bruce with his foot and the Rottweiler took this as a sign that he could get attention from Bobby as he got eagerly to his paws, and set his head on Bobby's lap so he could get petted. "Definitely don't act like this idjit!"

* * *

Meanwhile, not too far away from Bobby's place, Dean had parked the Impala in a clearing just off the side of the road, and he and Sara were lying back on the hood, gazing at the stars.

They'd been doing this in a companionable silence for at least an hour when Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the night sky, "Have you had a good day, Sara?"

"Yeah, apart from early this morning," Sara answered.

Dean chuckled, "We all could have done without that part."

"It's been great, Dad," Sara repeated. After a few seconds of silence, she said, "Thanks, Dad."

Glancing at his daughter, Dean gave a small smile before he sat up. Sara copied his action, assuming that he wanted to get back to Bobby's. He pulled his daughter into a one-armed hug and he kissed the top of her head, "Happy birthday, kiddo."

Sara hugged her father back, "Thanks, Dad. I love you."

"I love you too," Dean said. Their embrace didn't last long, Dean being the first to pull away again, "So do you want to head back to Bobby's or stay out here a bit longer?"

"Let's stay here a bit longer," Sara answered, leaning back against the hood of the Impala once more.

Dean nodded in approval of her answer before he leaned back once more as well, content with how things were and not a worry on his mind…for now.


	4. Four: May You Always Keep Your Youth

******_I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters in it apart from the ones that come from my own imagination, and of course all errors are mine. Enjoy!_**

******_*Please note that though Mark Twain, his family, and the Mark Twain House are actual people and an actual place, the events I have happen in this story are purely fiction, and all information about Mark Twain, his family, and the house used in this chapter was obtained via the Mark Twain House website._**

******_*Also note that I'm still plugging away through Season 8 of Supernatural so I am not completely caught up yet in the series._**

******_Author's Little Blurb: Sorry, once again, for the long wait. I lost a bit of motivation to write this for a bit, but now I'm back on track and I hope to maybe get another chapter up (hopefully sooner than the wait you all just went through)! _**

* * *

**Four: May You Always Keep Your Youth**

A few minutes of silence spanned between Dean and Sara as they continued to gaze at the stars. Sara finally asked her father quietly, "Dad…did you know about the serial killers?"

_I knew this was coming…_ Dean thought as he sighed heavily. "Yeah…I knew about them, kiddo. So did Sam and Bobby."

She didn't respond immediately, trying to figure out how she wanted to ask her next question. Much like her father, she used the blunt approach, "Why didn't you tell me about them?"

"I didn't want you to worry," Dean admitted. He released another sigh, "You shouldn't have to worry about things at your age…"

"Dad…I'm not exactly a normal kid," Sara stated after a few minutes. "I mean…I've seen things most kids get told are fake."

Another sigh escaped Dean, though this one was of regret. His daughter had no idea how much he desperately wished that she could have led a normal, average life. But she didn't have that, "What are you trying to say, kiddo?"

Sara frowned. _What am I trying to say?_ "I guess…I don't want to be left in the dark…"

"You don't want me to keep secrets from you?" Dean tried to clarify as he sat up so he could get a better look at his daughter's face.

Sitting up as well, Sara nodded, "Basically…"

Now she had him cornered, even if unintentionally. Dean could agree to keep her in the loop and have no secrets between them and mean it, and that would mean revealing not only that a psychotic demon was her mother, but that he had made a deal with a cross roads demon as well that could very well end with him going to hell. Or…he could agree, and tell her everything…except the deal. _What am I going to do…?_ He was very torn, since he could see it in Sara's eyes that she really wanted to have no secrets between them. She wanted to know that she was special enough to him; she wanted to know that he really did care for her enough to tell her the truth, even if it would scare her. Dean wasn't sure she knew just how much she was asking of him. Sara was still pretty young though, just entering her teens really. Fourteen was still young. There was still plenty of time for her to hit her rebellious years and not want to tell him everything that was going on in her life, nor really want to know all that was going on in his. Yet he couldn't ignore that so far, his daughter had taken everything that had been thrown at her in stride and that she had never asked him of anything really…until now.

It was easy to see that her father was seriously considering what she had asked of him, and Sara wouldn't be surprised if he told her that he couldn't tell her everything, or that she was childish from wanting him to tell her everything. So far, in her experiences with her father and uncle, secrets had only led to quite a lot of trouble from her being in the clutches of a shape shifter, to recently being at the mercy of serial killers, and she could imagine that her father and uncle would have similar stories about when they kept secrets from each other. Sara really couldn't see a down side to not having any secrets between them.

Taking a deep breath, Dean nodded, closing his eyes, "All right. No more secrets between you and me." He opened his eyes again to see that smile that he so loved on his daughter's face, "There are some things we'll need to discuss…but not tonight." _I can at least let her get one more good night's sleep without having any fear of a fucked-up demon…_

"All right, Dad," Sara said, leaning against him, trying to silently let him know how much his agreement of no more secrets meant to her.

This time Dean sighed in defeat, rubbing her shoulder as she leaned against him. He pulled away after a few seconds sliding off the hood of the Impala, "We need to head back to Bobby's before he sends that mutt out to look for us!"

"Dad! He's not a mutt!" Sara protested as she slid off the hood as well, heading to the passenger's side door. "Bruce is an awesome Rottweiler!"

"Yeah," Dean agreed as he gave a half-smile before sliding into the driver's seat, adding silently, _that he is._ He glanced at his daughter as she got in, and though she tried to hide it, he didn't miss her yawn. "We'll be back at Bobby's soon, then you can get some sleep."

"I'm not tired," Sara tried to argue.

Dean started the Impala up, "Sure you're not!" His daughter stuck her tongue out at him in response.

* * *

Though it only took five minutes, tops, to get to Bobby's, Sara had fallen asleep in the car. Dean shook his head when he realized she had fallen asleep. Getting out of the car, he walked over to the passenger's side and opened the door, scooping his daughter up into his arms, and muttering, "Not tired, huh?" Locking the door, he closed it and carried Sara towards the house.

Once inside, he found that no one was awake, since he could hear Bobby snoring upstairs, and he could see that Sam was asleep in the living room since the door was half-open. Being as quiet as possible, Dean carried his daughter into the living room and made his way towards the recliner. Tripping over something, he swore as he nearly dropped his daughter. Managing to keep his balance, he muttered, "Son of a bitch…!" He turned to see what he had tripped over to see Bruce, still snoring, on the floor. "Damn dog!" Dean grouched as he set his daughter gently on the recliner, and pulled down the throw that was resting on top of it and setting it on her before he sat down, leaning against the front of the chair, deciding it was as good of a place as any to try and get some shut eye. Even with his thoughts still warring as to how much he was going to tell his daughter, Dean was soon asleep, his head rolling to the side to rest against the left arm of the chair.

* * *

_The baying and snarling of the hounds echoed around him as he ran, his heart hammering in his chest. Dean glanced over his shoulder to try and see where they were, but he couldn't see them…not yet. He didn't want to see them. All he wanted to do was stay as far away from them as possible…but they were hell hounds, and they had his scent. They'd get him eventually, and he knew it, but he still ran anyway. He wasn't ready to give up and die. He'd been through too much to do that, so he kept running, even as their baying and snarls drew ever closer, the echoes getting gradually louder…_

Dean awoke with a jolt from his nightmare, and he closed his eyes, silently reminding himself that it was a dream. The hounds wouldn't be after him for several months yet. He still had time to find the demon and kill her. He knew most of the dream was from his memories of the last time he'd made a deal. The terror that was currently coursing through him was very real though…too real.

Opening his eyes he inhaled sharply when he saw a dog's face right in front of him. "Dog!" He hissed in a furious whisper as he tried to get his heartbeat back on track since it had skipped a beat. Bruce simply continued to stare at him until Dean roughly shoved him away, grouching, "You are not the brightest hound!" He glanced at the clock to see that it was around seven in the morning. Standing up, he noticed that Bruce hadn't gone very far even after Dean had shoved him away. Annoyed, Dean demanded in a fierce whisper, "What?" Bruce whined and trotted into the kitchen before scratching at the door. Realization finally struck Dean that the dog probably had to go out to relieve himself. Reluctantly, Dean walked into the kitchen and let Bruce out, the Rottweiler bounding outside and starting to mark every car on the property that he could.

More tired than he cared to admit, Dean leaned against the open door, waiting for Bruce to return so that he could go back to sleep, unfortunately, Bruce had other ideas, and he took a full ten minutes to relieve himself and come back to the door, happily trotting in and shaking before heading into the living room and taking Dean's spot in front of the recliner.

Slightly annoyed, Dean sat in one of the kitchen chairs and slouched in it, attempting to get comfy. After several minutes of adjusting his position, he finally managed to find a comfortable position to sleep in and he soon dozed off, hoping to get a couple more hours of sleep before either Bobby or Sam woke up.

* * *

Dean didn't know what woke him up, probably some internal clock that was letting him know that he got his designated four hours sleep. Whatever it was, he wasn't thrilled to find himself awake at eight o'clock. Glancing around and listening, he didn't hear any footsteps or voices signifying that anyone else was up. His gaze went to the living room to confirm that at least Sam and Sara were definitely still asleep along with Bruce.

Getting up out of the chair, Dean walked into the living room and he gently shook his daughter's shoulder. A soft moan was the first response he got. "Hey! Come on, kiddo. Up and at'em," he said, keeping his tone low so as not to wake Sam, though he didn't succeed in not waking Bruce, who was on his paws in an instant.

"What is it?" Sara asked groggily, still not completely awake.

Dean answered, "I promised you that there'd be no more secrets between us…Now's the best time to tell you."

Still not fully awake, she asked, "What time is it."

"Eight."

This time she groaned, "Why so early?"

_Because Sam won't be breathing down my neck as I tell you these things that I said I wouldn't tell you…_ "Because it's early and you'll have plenty of time to get over the shock, now come on."

Sitting up, Sara wiped at her eyes, and slowly followed her father first into the kitchen and then outside, Bruce keeping close to her like a shadow.

* * *

Sam woke up at the sound of the kitchen door closing, and he glanced around, at first unsure of what had woken him up. Hearing Bruce's excited barking; he walked into the kitchen and looked out the window, surprised to see Dean outside with his daughter. With a quick look at the clock, Sam was even more confused as to what they were both doing up at such an early hour, especially considering how late the pair must have gotten back at, since he and Bobby had called it a night around midnight.

Quietly, Sam slipped outside and made sure to keep his distance and remain hidden so that his brother wouldn't know that he was there as he listened to what he was telling Sara.

* * *

Sara followed her father about halfway to the Impala when he stopped walking and glanced down at her. She waited patiently for him to start talking, though part of her wanted him to hurry up before she fell back asleep.

Realizing that he'd have to start from when he'd picked her up from the orphanage, Dean hoped that his daughter wouldn't be too hurt by what he was about to say, "Sara…when I came to the orphanage to pick you up…it wasn't because I felt that I was a better father…it was because a demon, that I thought I'd gotten off your trail had found you." Dean had to look away from his daughter as he saw the pain and disbelief start to enter her eyes, "If had been up to me…I wouldn't have come back for you otherwise…"

Sara fought back tears at her father's first words. They hurt. To hear him say that he wouldn't have come for her without prompting was extremely painful to hear, but she managed to keep the pain and sorrow from her voice as she asked, "Why couldn't you just gank the demon and be done with it?"

"That's the problem," Dean said, still not looking at his daughter, "When I first found you outside my hotel room door, I figured your mother would come and get you remembering what a dick I was…I didn't realize it at the time…but your mother did come for you, or more specifically, she came for you to try and get back at me." He risked a look at his daughter to see the hurt and confusion in her eyes, and he had to look away, merely addressing the confusion, "Your mother somehow became a demon, one that's immune to salt and probably everything else that I'd normally use against a demon. At the time, I had just finished up my first solo hunt, and having a kid dropped on my doorstep and then a demon showing up…I couldn't handle it."

"That's when you gave me up," Sara stated, still trying to keep the pain and sadness out of her voice.

Dean nodded, "Yeah…though I really didn't want to, kiddo."

Though she really wanted to believe him, Sara found it hard to believe him after what he'd first said, so she simply nodded.

"Anyway, that demon lost your trail up until a little over a month ago back when I came and got you…problem is…this demon is still after you and it wants to kill you…She let me know that she wants me to suffer from her killing you, so she let me know that I have a year with you, and at the end of it, she intends to kill you."

A shiver of fear went up Sara's spine, and her pain at hearing her father say he'd merely picked her up from the orphanage because of a demon was momentarily forgotten. She only had a year to live? Only a year?! One year to spend with her father, and two months of it had already been wasted?! _I don't want to die!_

When he looked at his daughter again, Dean saw the raw fear in her eyes, and he knelt down, and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him, "I don't have any intention of letting that demon get anywhere near you, and I sure as hell am not going to let her kill you! Do you understand me?" When she didn't respond, Dean said sharply, "Hey! Do you understand me?!" She nodded, though Dean realized that her fears hadn't been dissolved in any way.

"Dad…" she asked quietly, another fear coming forward, "Am I even human?"

This he could answer, and he was starting to feel glad that Sam had pestered him to have Castiel check her to see if she was completely human, and to see if she was legitimately his daughter, "Yes. You're human. I asked Castiel to check." He decided to address her other question before she could even think of it, "And, yes, you are my daughter, I had that checked as well. Both with your uncle's urging really…" Dean decided Sam should get credit where it was due.

Sara nodded, though she couldn't feel relieved as the pain came back, _he wouldn't have come back for me if that demon didn't find me…he never would have…does he really even care?_

* * *

Sam had heard enough, and he was furious with his brother, _One minute he doesn't want to tell her anything so that she can sleep well at night, and now he's telling her everything, and she's obviously upset by all of it! He's not even reassuring her that he cares!_

Quietly, he made his way back into the house. Sam decided that he and Dean were going to have a real good talk about why he decided that Sara should know everything and not have her feelings spared.

* * *

Dean saw that something was still troubling his daughter, and he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sara lied immediately without really thinking.

He put on a smile as he reminded his daughter, "No secrets anymore, remember?"

Shaking, and unable to hold back her tears any longer, she whispered, "You wouldn't have come back for me if that demon hadn't found me…!"

Her tears and the obvious pain in her voice felt like he'd had a knife shoved into his stomach, but he answered truthfully, "No…I wouldn't have…" Sara tried to pull away from him then, but Dean kept a firm grip on her shoulders, "I never wanted this life for you. I didn't want you to become a hunter. I wanted you to live a normal life, with a normal family. A loving mother and father, maybe some siblings…I didn't want this life for you at all." He still felt her trembling, and she had her eyes closed as tears flowed down her cheeks. To add emphasis to Sara's obvious pain, Bruce whined, hovering only an inch or two behind her.

Dean pulled his daughter against him then, and he felt her tears seep through his shirt, he said softly, "I don't regret getting you though…" _You're the best thing that ever happened to me…_ he said silently. "I love you, kiddo." He held her tighter than as he thought of the deal he'd made, and the possible ending it could have with him no longer being in her life, "Don't ever doubt that I love you, Sara…Please don't ever doubt that…" He felt her arms wrap around him, and hug him back, and he hoped that meant that she understood that he loved her.

Sara did understand. She felt stupid for ever doubting her father. Of course he cared about her. He wouldn't have kept her with him and her uncle so long, or told her all of this if he didn't. She still had to check one thing though, "Dad…?"

"Yeah."

"Once this demon is gone…" She couldn't bring herself to ask the question, realizing that it might hurt her father.

Dean knew what she had wanted to ask though, and he answered her unspoken question, "Once the demon is gone, you'll still be with Sammy and I…" He felt bad for lying, but he didn't want her to feel guilty about the deal he'd made to protect her. Dean pulled away from her then, and he stood up, helping Sara up as well. He teased, "Any deep, dark secrets you want to tell me?"

He got the desired result as Sara laughed, wiping her eyes, "I thought you and Uncle Sammy were hot when I first saw you."

Her father messed up her hair, "So you know where you inherited your good looks from." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he eventually gave in to his contained amusement, laughing a bit. "Is that really all?"

"Sadly, yes," Sara admitted.

Dean smiled, "Then head inside and we'll see if we can find any breakfast."

* * *

Sam forced himself not to give his brother an outright glare as he and Sara walked in along with Bruce, who was sticking close to Sara's side. Seeing his niece's red-rimmed eyes, tugged at his heartstrings though, and he asked quietly, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Sara lied. "Must be allergic to something outside…"

Knowing that he wouldn't get a different answer out of her, Sam casually asked, "What were you two doing up so early?"

"Taking Bruce for a walk," Dean answered off-handedly as he started to look through Bobby's fridge for something to eat. "Dog was keeping us both up with how antsy he was getting."

Fighting to keep control over his temper, he was relieved when Bobby came downstairs and saw Dean raiding his fridge, "What are you doing?"

"Fixing breakfast," Dean answered as he shut the fridge, holding eggs, cheese, and bacon.

"What exactly are you making?"

"Omelets?" Dean's answer was more of a question.

Bobby took the items from Dean's arms, while Dean grinned, looking like he'd won a trophy as he sat down, and Bobby set to work, grumbling, "I should spit in yours!"

Dean continued to grin until he thought about who had just spoken and said, "Please don't!"

Bobby didn't answer, merely going to work on making breakfast. It wasn't that he didn't trust Dean to cook, but there was something in his eyes, that Bobby couldn't quite explain, that had made him take up the reins on making breakfast. _Boy…something tells me I don't want to know what's on your mind…_

Sam decided to keep himself from snapping at Dean anytime soon, "You said you had a possible case for us, Bobby?"

"Wow! Back up!" Dean said, leaning forward, "When was this discussed?"

"Last night," Bobby answered. "I was looking through a Connecticut newspaper…"

"Which you got from where?" Dean questioned.

Bobby threw Dean's omelet onto a plate, "I bought it!" He snorted as he set the plate in front of Dean before working on the next one.

"As Bobby was saying, something's going on at Samuel Clemens' House," Sam stated, picking up from where Bobby had left off.

"Who?" Dean questioned Sam before giving a conspiratorially wink to his daughter.

He was hit in the back of the head with a rolled up newspaper, courtesy of Bobby, "Keep it up, Idjit! It's Mark Twain's house!" Bruce had been sneaking around the table, preparing to hop on the table when he got a swat in the rear end with the rolled up newspaper and he retreated to the living room with a yelp. Snorting once again, Bobby continued, "The big story in the newspaper was about a woman knocking herself senseless trying to get into one of the locked rooms. That was after she nearly scratched her fingertips off clawing at the door."

"What's in the locked room?" Dean questioned past a mouthful of omelet.

Bobby shrugged as he set a second omelet in front of Sara before he turned back to the stove, "Staff say there's nothing in there apart from some things that they don't have on display…yet."

"How is this our kind of thing?" Dean asked.

Sam answered, "Because the woman claims to be possessed, and witnesses say that she didn't respond when her name was called, and that she exhibited inhuman strength. Apparently she didn't remember anything when she came to either."

Dean nodded, "Sounds like we should check it out."

Bobby set the last omelet in front of Sam, and said sarcastically, "I wouldn't have thought of that!"

Grinning in response, Dean turned to his daughter as she questioned, "So is this a possible demon case?"

"Possible," Dean admitted. "Not likely though, Kiddo."

"Why?" Sara asked.

"It fits more with a ghost possession," Dean explained. "But like I said, it could be possible that a demon is responsible, but not unless someone says that they noticed some black smoke leaving the woman, I don't think it's likely. A demon wouldn't give up control of a host body so easily."

Sam added, "Not unless it knew that its host wouldn't be able to do the job."

"Still," Dean said. "No one mentions black smoke."

"That we know of."

Dean glared at his brother, wondering why the heck Sam seemingly wanted to get into a verbal fight. He was even more surprised when Sam returned his glare, almost tenfold, and it showed on his face, _now I know something is wrong…wonder what stick's up his ass now?_

Glancing between her father and uncle, Sara started to wonder what was going on between them now.

Bobby was thinking similarly to Sara, wondering what was wrong with the brothers, _if you two idjits keep it up, I'll start addressing Sara as the adult and you two as children since you keep acting like them!_

"Either way," Dean said, trying to understand his brother's apparent bad mood. "Our kind of crazy. So when do we head out, Bobby?"

Before Bobby could answer, Sam said quietly, "I think we should address the crazy that's going on right here."

Bobby quickly said to Sara, "Why don't you and I go figure out if this is a demon or ghost case without these two?"

"Sure," Sara eagerly agreed, knowing that her father and uncle seemed to be having some more issues.

As soon as the door closed behind Bobby and Sara (and Bruce by default) Dean demanded in a low tone, "What's this about? Did you wake up pissed at me for snoring or what?"

Sam gave a dark laugh, trying to organize his thoughts so he could make it very clear to Dean why he was ticked off. "You say that you don't want to tell her everything, and yet that's exactly what you did this morning." Sam turned the full force of his furious gaze on his brother, "You said that you wanted her to sleep at night, and now you just tell her everything?"

Dean met Sam's furious gaze with his own, "Taken to eavesdropping on my private conversations with my daughter? I don't understand you, Sam!"

"It's you I don't understand, Dean!" Sam bellowed. "You're becoming a frickin' hypocrite when it comes to how you claim you're going to raise your daughter!"

"Oh, I'm a hypocrite!" Dean's voice rose to match Sam's in volume. "You treated Sara like the plague when you thought she wasn't mine, and now you're concerned about her well-being?! You have no right to tell me how I should be raising her!"

"At least I make it clear why I act the way I do, if not to her, then to you!" Sam shook his head in disgust at his brother, "You don't even tell me what the hell is on your mind."

"I don't have to tell you everything, Sammy," Dean said, his tone becoming quiet once more. "I've told you before, and I'll keep telling you: how I choose to raise my daughter is my business. Not yours." Sam had had enough, and he took a swing at his brother.

Sitting in the living room, hearing the raised voices of Sam and Dean, Bobby could tell the boys' yelling was getting to Sara, just by the way she was hugging Bruce. It was as if the Rottweiler was her anchor. The yelling stopped suddenly, and Bobby started to stand up, assuming the boys had gotten it out of their system. When he heard a loud thud, followed by a loud crash, he said to Sara, "Stay in here!" Moving as fast as he could, Bobby entered the kitchen.

Sara didn't even have to see what her father and uncle were doing, the sounds alone gave away that they were having a fist fight, and it scared her a bit. A couple times she'd heard them yell at each other, and yes, the first night she'd been with them they'd exchanged blows, but otherwise, their arguments had never gotten this bad before.

Hugging Bruce more tightly, Sara wished that she knew what to do or say so that they wouldn't get into these arguments. _It'd help if I knew what the source of the problem was, but I know if I ask, neither one of them will give me a straight answer…they never do…_ She hugged the Rottweiler all the more tighter as a darker though entered her mind, _am I the problem?_

"HEY!" Bobby hollered as soon as the kitchen door closed behind him. Taking in the scene, Sam had Dean on the table, and his fist was raised, ready to punch him in the face. Likewise, Dean had one hand on the one Sam had on his shirt collar, and the other had obviously been in the same motion as Sam's raised fist. "Why don't you idjits ever think before you act?! You got a young girl in there who's probably come to the conclusion that she's the reason you're fighting!" He saw that his words affected both of them, and though Dean didn't look concerned to the untrained eye, Bobby could see that he was the one most affected by his words.

"Sorry, Bobby," they both muttered like two kids caught in trouble, which they pretty much were in Bobby's mind.

Bobby snorted, "I see you both got some good slugs in at the other, hopefully it cleared some of whatever's up your asses out!" Dean had a cut on his cheek, while Sam had a split lip. "Now both of you go clean yourselves up!"

Sam led the way out of the kitchen and into the living room towards the bathroom. He sighed when he saw how Sara was practically straggling the Rottweiler from how tightly she was hugging him, _Bobby's right…we didn't think about the consequences of our actions. _Glancing back at his brother, he was relieved to see that Dean seemed to be on the same wavelength as him, _maybe he'll start taking what I say a bit more seriously. This shook Sara up, why didn't he think that telling her everything wouldn't?! She's just a kid! _Entering the bathroom he shut the door behind him.

Dean went to his daughter and sat down the couch next to her, "You know your uncle and I just butt heads sometimes, right? It's got nothing to do with you."

"It feels like it does," Sara muttered, though she did loosen her hold on Bruce. The Rottweiler looked relieved.

Deciding a little white lie wasn't really breaking his promise, Dean shook his head, "Nah! Sammy and I just get on each other's nerves and we're not really the type of guys to talk our feelings out."

"I can see that," his daughter didn't laugh like he'd been hoping; though she did release her hold of Bruce, who promptly lay down, head on his paws.

"Ah, kiddo," Dean said, not really knowing what else to say as he pulled her against his side, "You worry too much."

"I kind of have to," Sara muttered.

Dean raised an eyebrow at her, "Really?"

She nodded, though she didn't elaborate. He sighed, "Kiddo, you really don't have to worry. Sam was just ticked off at me for my parenting methods." He frowned, "I guess it's about you indirectly." Now he got the desired laugh from her. "Seriously though, what your uncle and I get into arguments about isn't about you." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Now your old man needs to go and clean up before Bobby starts tanning my hide." He heard another laugh as he walked to the bathroom door. Dean had great timing, as Sam walked back out, having washed his split lip.

As Dean entered the bathroom, Sam leaned against the top of the back of the couch, "Hey, Sara." She glanced over her shoulder at him, "You do know that your dad and I weren't arguing about you or anything like that, right?"

"I know," Sara answered, giving a small smile reminiscent of her father, "Dad told me already."

"Good," Sam said, trying to hide his surprise. "You should probably start packing up and getting ready to hit the road. We're going to Connecticut once we're all packed."

An hour later, they were leaving Bobby and a distraught Bruce behind as they headed for Connecticut. Bobby patted the Rottweiler on the head as the dog whined pathetically. Bobby muttered, "Oh, be quiet you baby. They'll be back eventually." Bruce continued to whine, "Why did I let them convince me to keep you?!"

* * *

In the Impala, Dean and Sam were discussing how to get to Hartford, Connecticut. Dean saying, "Look, if we take I-90 we'd get there in twenty-four hours if we just traded off and on."

"Or," Sam countered, we stop for the night somewhere and just get to Hartford the following day anyway."

"Don't tell me you missed Bobby's little briefing about what that woman did to herself while possessed?"

"No, Dean, I didn't," Sam stated, "However, it's the only incident so far."

"Oh, so that means we should take our sweet old time," Dean said sarcastically.

"No, I'm just saying that we don't have to kill ourselves trying to get there."

Sara was listening in the back seat, wishing that they'd come to an agreement, however, she didn't chime in either, not wanting to be dragged into the argument.

"We're driving through the night," Dean stated, his tone indicating there'd be no more argument. "We'll take a break in whatever motel we check into and then we'll investigate what's going on, happy?"

Sam hadn't missed his brother's gaze going to the rearview mirror, and he had a feeling that Sara's presence had helped to settle the argument, "Fine. That's what we'll do."

Dean flipped through his cassettes without looking, and pulled out Led Zeppelin, popping the cassette into the radio, and raising the volume, his classic way of signifying that the conversation was definitely over.

* * *

"You know, I envy her right now," Dean muttered twenty hours later to Sam.

Sam's eyes were closed, but he was still awake, having just finished his shift of driving, "How so?"

"She can sleep for a solid eight hours," Dean answered.

Sam laughed, opening his eyes, "Yeah. I'll admit, I'm a bit envious right now too."

"I can't wait till she's old enough to drive," Dean frowned as soon as the words left his mouth, "Scratch that. I can."

Another laugh escaped Sam, "I kind of knew that last statement was coming."

"Yeah," Dean smiled, but Sam noticed that it didn't reach his brother's eyes.

"What's up?" Sam questioned, genuinely concerned.

"Nothing."

"Don't shut me out again, Dean."

"I'm not. Nothing's wrong."

The would-have-been brotherly moment was gone, and Sam sighed in defeat, closing his eyes once more.

Dean waited until he heard his brother's breathing slow before he glanced in the rearview mirror at his daughter. If things didn't work out as he planned, if he couldn't kill the demon, he wouldn't be around to teach her how to drive, or to help her through whatever trials her later teenage years brought on, and that was something that tore at his heart and really made him wonder if making the deal had been for the best or not. _God…I hope I did the right thing, Kiddo, because if I didn't…_ He focused on the road and the hunt ahead once more, not wanting his thoughts to go any further.

* * *

Reaching a twenty four hour Super 8, Dean parked the Impala in the parking lot. Not bothering to wake his brother or daughter, he walked in. The lady at the counter gave him a dark look, probably wishing he hadn't arrived to ruin her reading, since Dean noticed a magazine on her desk.

"Hi, I'd like to reserve a room for a couple nights, preferably large enough for three people," Dean said, giving his most charming smile.

The woman was apparently immune to his charm, "There's only a one bedroom available at this time, sir, perhaps you'd like to wait until the late morning."

Dean had a quick debate over waking his brother and daughter to move them into a cramped room or just sleeping in the Impala for the night. "I'll see whatever charming person is at the front desk later!" Turning around he walked right back outside and opened the back door on the passenger's side of the Impala, sliding in next to his daughter and reclining back as much as he could to try and get comfortable. He could get a couple hours sleep before he or Sam, or both tried to get a different, hopefully larger room later that morning.

* * *

Dean woke up as light streamed in through the windshield of the Impala. Grunting as he tried to stretch out his legs, both of which seemed to have fallen asleep on him, he heard Sam ask groggily from the front seat, "Why did we sleep in the Impala?"

"Because I didn't see the point of putting us in a small, cramped room," Dean muttered, opening the door and stepping outside, stretching.

Sam did the same, grouching, "And the car was the better choice?"

"You were sound asleep and I didn't hear you complaining," Dean stated.

His brother simply rolled his eyes, "I'm going to book us a room, WHATEVER size it may be!"

Rolling his eyes, Dean finished stretching and slid back into the back seat of the Impala, and he gently shook his daughter's shoulder. Unlike when she'd first joined them in hunting, Sara's eyes were open in an instant. Dean almost missed having to put a bit more effort into waking her up…almost. "We're checking in, kiddo."

He got out of the Impala once more, and he heard his daughter get out of the car as well, the door shutting behind her. They both walked around to the trunk and Dean smirked, "You can head inside and head to the room with Sammy if you want."

"I'd rather help out with carrying the bags," Sara said, yawning a bit.

Dean continued to smirk, "Don't think your old man can handle all of them?"

Sara didn't say anything, merely smiling as she grabbed several of the bags that she could actually carry without falling over. Dean's smirk changed to a grin as he grabbed the other bags, closing the trunk and locking it before he walked with his daughter inside.

They couldn't have timed it better as Sam got the keys to their room. Spotting them, Sam waited for them to get closer before he led the way towards their room.

Sam reluctantly commented as they walked down the hall, "I managed to get us a room with two beds and a cushioned chair."

"Worth they wait then," Dean said.

"Yeah, it was."

Grinning, Dean pushed open the door once Sam unlocked it, and they both immediately starting going through the room, making sure there were no surprises, a habit that hadn't left them since the days of hunting leviathan. Sara set down the bags she was carrying where Dean had dropped the other ones, standing near them as she waited for them to finish searching the room. The room contained two beds and a cushioned chair as Sam had said, along with a bathroom, two desks, and a nightstand in between the two beds. After the brothers exchanged a quick glance, Dean nodded at his daughter, signifying that they hadn't come across anything that made them think there was something else in the room or that had been in the room. All three of them set to unpacking what they needed; Sam unpacking his laptop and several of the various books that he used to "home-school" Sara, while Sara unpacked her homework that she had to do, and Dean put whatever was in the cooler (mainly beer) into the fridge before he unpacked his own computer (which Sam had forced him to buy after a particular hunt).

Sam already had his computer up and running and had the internet up when he said, "Dean…we're going to have to move a bit faster…there was another possession at the Twain House."

Out of the chair and at the other desk in an instant, Dean asked, "What's the story on this one?"

"Same sort of thing as the other case," Sam said. "Except this time, the woman threw her husband down the stairs from the second floor when he touched her to see if she was all right."

"Are they okay?" Sara asked worriedly, looking up from her Latin homework.

"In the hospital, but yeah, the article says that they're all right," Sam answered.

Dean straightened up and muttered, "We need to see about talking to both women, possibly the husband of the one, but how do we go about it, FBI won't work."

"Department of Health?" Sam suggested after a few moments.

Dean shrugged, "It's the best we got. I don't think anything else could get us in."

"I guess that means I'm staying here?" Sara asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Actually," Sam said, giving Dean a quick glance to see how he would react to his suggestion. "You can check out the library and get as much information on the Mark Twain House as possible." He didn't hear an objection from his brother, and he cast another quick look at Dean, and he was surprised to see him nodding in agreement. _Huh…looks like we might actually agree on something for once!_

"All right!" Sara agreed immediately, happy to have a task to do while her father and uncle asked the victims questions.

* * *

An hour later, after dropping Sara off at the local library, Sam and Dean were entering the hospital, dressed in their typical suits. Approaching the front desk, they flashed their ID badges to the nurse as Sam said, "We're from the Department of Health, and we wanted to speak with the two women that had incidents at the Mark Twain House."

The nurse looked alarmed as he spoke, her green eyes widening in surprise, "Is it something contagious? Many people have come in to visit them!"

"We hope not," Dean said, before he added, "So can you tell us where they're at?"

Nodding, the nurse led them through a door and down a pristine white hallway before she stopped in front of one of the doors, "This is Mrs. Edmington's room, and three doors down is Mr. & Mrs. Moore's shared room." She hurried away, apparently afraid of catching some unknown disease; this made Sam and Dean's job all the easier though since they didn't have to worry about anybody listening intently to the questions they asked the patients.

Pushing the door open to Mrs. Edmington's room, and they realized why she was still in the hospital, she had several nasty cuts on her head, and she stared at them blankly, not even acknowledging their presence. They quickly exited the room, Dean muttering, "We're not going to get any information from her…"

"Yeah, but now I'm starting to wonder what we've got on our hands," Sam muttered.

* * *

Sara realized that she could have just as easily stayed at the Super 8 to do the research as she got onto one of the library's many computers, setting her backpack down next to her chair, and pulling out a notebook to take down notes of what she found. Typing in "Mark Twain House" on Google she immediately clicked on the link and was immediately taken to the home page of the Mark Twain House website. Glancing at the four different tabs, she decided to click on "The Man" tab first; _I might as well see if there were any deaths in the house that might suggest the presence of a restless spirit. _ As she clicked on the link "Sam Clemens' Family" Sara started reading the sad history of the Twain family, or more specifically, of the children, once she'd browsed through Olivia Langdon Clemens' history.

Mark Twain's son, Langdon, and firstborn died at nineteen months of age from diphtheria, his second child and first daughter, Olivia Susan, fondly called Susy, died at age twenty-four from spinal meningitis, and the house was sold in 1903, six years after her death. Clara, the second oldest daughter, was the only one who lived to the age of eighty-eight, and then there was Jane, called Jean, who died at age twenty-four, though not in the Hartford house, of an apparent heart attack.

Frowning at the screen, Sara realized that there was really only the possibility of either Mark Twain himself haunting the house, though it wouldn't make sense why he couldn't get into a certain room, or Susy; granted, their was the vague possibility of the butler haunting the house as well, but he was only mentioned in a blog saying that the Ghost Facers had visited the house to see if it was haunted—they'd said yes. Mark Twain would have had an attachment to the house since he'd owned it, while Susy actually died in the house, making both of them the prime suspects. However, Sara was suspecting Susy since she didn't understand why Mark Twain wouldn't have access to all the rooms, the house having belonged to him. Susy, on the other hand, would, possibly, not have access to all the rooms of the house, so if one was locked… she continued to do more research, clicking on "The House" tab and clicking the link "Virtual Tour".

Perplexed at the map presented to her, she looked at all the floor plans, hoping her father and uncle wouldn't be upset with her as she printed the page, praying that they had cash on them to pay whatever the fee was for printing, she logged off the computer and went to grab the page she'd printed.

* * *

"What exactly happened to you, Mrs. Moore?" Sam asked gently. The woman lying in the hospital bed had similar injuries to Mrs. Edmington, minus the nasty head injuries. The only reason she was still in the hospital was that the hospital wanted to monitor her and make sure she didn't have another "spell". Her husband was in the bed next to her, and Dean was speaking with him.

Mrs. Moore answered, her brown eyes having a hunted look, "We had just gotten onto the second floor and we'd just finished seeing Mr. Twain's master bedroom. We started walking towards the bedroom that is above the Mahogany Room, when in the other hall, I spotted…" Her eyes got a wild look to them.

"Go on," Sam gently urged.

"I…I spotted a girl, and she said…" Mrs. Moore started to cry. "She said she wanted in!" She started to sob.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. It was difficult enough speaking with her since he'd see the red puffiness around her brown eyes when he'd entered, but he felt worse for making the poor woman relive something she obviously wanted to forget. "Mrs. Moore…" He finally said after her sobs seemed to subside after several minutes, "Do you remember anything after that?"

Mrs. Moore nodded, pushing a blonde strand of hair out of her tear-stained face, "Yes...I…I remember her rushing at me, and then…nothing…" She started to cry again.

Sam said quietly, "Thank you, Mrs. Moore." He made a hasty exit, and he was glad that Dean followed him out. "Get anything out of Mr. Moore?" He asked once the door shut behind them.

"Not a thing except that he said he touched her shoulder when she started walking towards a room not on the tour and that she picked him up, carried him to the stairs, and threw him down it saying she wanted in and nothing was going to stop her," Dean answered. "And that he doesn't blame his wife. He said she wasn't herself, obviously." He sighed in exasperation, "I hope you had better luck!"

"She said she spotted a girl and that the girl rushed her and that was all she remembered," Sam stated.

"Great," Dean muttered. "So we have virtually nothing!"

"Let's hope Sara had some luck identifying our girl, otherwise we really do have nothing," Sam muttered, adding silently, _otherwise, we're going to be here a lot longer than we planned._

* * *

Pulling up in front of the library a half hour later, Sam and Dean entered the library and didn't have far to look for Sara, who was seated at one of the tables near the front, but off to the side so as to not attract attention.

_She's learning, _Dean thought in approval, walking towards his daughter with Sam a step or two behind him.

Hearing their approach Sara closed the book she'd been reading and stashed it in her backpack. Dean frowned as he spotted the title of her Latin book, _why is she doing her homework when we told her to research the Twain House?_

_Oh, good, glad she finally started on that,_ Sam thought, also seeing the title of the book.

"What have you been doing, kiddo?" Dean asked as he reached the table.

Sara answered, "Doing my homework."

Dean's frown became more pronounced, "The whole time?"

"No," Sara answered, catching the look her father was giving her, "I researched the Twain House from their site and got all the information I could on the family, and I printed off plans of the house from their virtual tour."

"Sammy," Dean said, gesturing towards the librarian, but Sam was way ahead of him, already half-way to the desk to pay whatever fee went with the printer. Looking at the page his daughter showed him and the notes she'd taken in a notebook, Dean smiled, nodding in approval.

Smiling back at her father, she grabbed her notebook, the page and placed them in her backpack, glad that she'd managed to be useful already to the hunt, unlike on the previous ones. _Now if only it can stay this way it'll be great!_

Dean could tell that his daughter was ecstatic at his approval and that she'd contributed to the hunt, and he messed up her hair as he led the way out of the library, Sara right behind him, and Sam trailing a bit behind, having finished paying the librarian the fee for printing.

* * *

Back at the Super 8, Dean and Sam were discussing the hunt, and Sara was pretending to continue working on her Latin homework, but she was really listening intently to what they said.

"I'm going to have to say that it seems like Susy is our resident spook of the Twain House," her father stated.

Sam shook his head, "I'm not so sure, I mean, Mark Twain did have three daughters, it could be any one of them really. Just because the other two didn't die in the house doesn't mean that they didn't have issues with their father or connections to the house."

"Actually Jean and Clara made up with their father," Sara chimed in.

Sam raised an eyebrow at her, "Homework."

Grumbling, Sara actually focused on the Latin in front of her, though she cast Sam a dirty look every now and then.

Dean managed to keep the grin off his face, "She's right, it's what their site says."

"I'd still feel better if we checked out the house in the daytime and then…"

"And then go and take a look at night and really get this case figured out," Dean finished for his brother. "The only thing is, if we do have to do a salt and burn, we need to know where our spook is buried."

"That part might be a bit more difficult," Sam muttered. He moved his laptop around so Dean could get a look at what he was looking at.

Dean said sarcastically, "New York! Great! Just perfect! And that's not even his whole family!"

"Exactly," Sam agreed quietly. "Let's hope we don't need to salt and burn a body, hopefully it'll just be an object or something."

"We'll see when we go take a tour…speaking of which," Dean nodded at Sam's laptop, "Check and see if they're open to the public walking in today or not."

Sam clicked on the link and quickly found the hours for the tours, "We're in luck. They don't close until five-thirty."

"Then let's go get a tour," Dean said, "We'll just make sure we look like a typical family on vacation."

"You do realize what you just said, right?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah…we're the furthest thing from normal…"

* * *

About an hour later, Sam, Dean, and Sara were starting a tour of the Mark Twain house, and they did look normal, all of them showing interest in the grounds and the rooms, but to the passerby, Sam was the father, while Dean was most likely a favorite uncle or family friend. Sam made sure to keep Sara close, adding his own comments to that of the tour guide's while Dean hung back, taking things in at his own pace. Sara tried to stay in between the, but found herself listening more to Sam's extra tidbits about the house.

Sam may have been playing the part of a normal family well, but he made sure to keep his eyes open for the ghost, not to mention, he would discreetly pull out his hand-made EMF detector.

As they reached the second floor while the tour group went further along, Sam held the EMF detector near the door of the master bedroom. Dean walked over to him and asked quietly, "Anything?"

"Yeah, we definitely got a spirit," Sam murmured. "It's just finding where the spirit is at." He glanced down the hall, "We'd better catch up before someone notices we're not keeping up."

Dean nodded and let Sam lead the way, asking Sara quietly, "So what do you think so far?"

Sara shrugged, knowing full well her father was asking her about what she sensed. Her father had explained to her that while hunters weren't typically psychic, they were more in tuned with their animal instincts; instincts that let them know when things were off about a place, when something evil was present, something with malicious intent, or just something that was threat.

"You know I'm not letting that answer fly," Dean murmured.

Sara frowned now. She wasn't sure what her instincts were telling her, "I don't think anything bad is going on here."

"I'll agree with that," Dean conceded. "Something's still off about this place though." He continued down the hall, and Sara followed him. Wishing her senses and instincts were more like her father and uncle's so she could be of more useful.

Passing a different hallway that led to a bedroom that wasn't a part of the tour, Dean nodded at the room without stopping, "That's where our two victims have been trying to get into. That locked bedroom above the Mahogany Room."

As Sara passed the hall, she only glanced towards at the hall, but she stopped and did a double-take, swearing she saw a young girl in a white dress with a red ribbon tied under the collar of her dress, her light colored hair pulled away from her face by a black ribbon. However, the girl wasn't there when Sara stopped to get a better look. Dean was hallway down the hall, almost caught up with the tour group when he noticed that his daughter had stopped, "Something wrong?"

"I thought I saw something," Sara answered, not only remembering the agreement that she and her father would have no secrets, but also knowing that he'd want to know about what she'd seen since it pertained to their hunt.

Dean hurried back to his daughter, fighting the urge to draw his pistol. He looked down the hallway towards the one bedroom, "What did you see?"

"A girl," Sara answered. "She was pretty young, wearing a white dress. She had light colored hair."

Now frowning, Dean walked down the hallway cautiously, pulling out his own home-made EMF detector and holding it near the door. "Something was definitely here, but it's gone now." He walked back down the hallway and stood next to Sara, "She didn't come at you or say anything?"

Sara nodded, "Yeah, I just saw her when I glanced down the hallway. When I stopped to get a better look, she wasn't there."

"All right," Dean murmured, putting one arm around her shoulders, "Let's catch up with the tour group."

Once Dean and Sara caught up with Sam, Dean motioned for his brother to drop back, "We know that our spirit is here, so let's get out and prepare for tonight." Sam nodded and all three of them exited the house, a surprised hostess trying to ask them why they'd left their tour before it had ended, but to no avail.

* * *

As soon as they were back at the Super 8, Sara used her father's computer to look at the pictures of Mark Twain's three daughters. "It's definitely Susy," Sara said, enlarging the picture. She was wearing the same clothes as she was wearing in this picture.

"That doesn't make much sense though," Sam muttered. "She died when she was twenty-four."

"We've come across stranger things," Dean said. "Why not a ghost that decides to revert back to childhood?"

"I don't know, it just seems off to me," Sam stated.

"We'll just have to deal with whatever this ghost throws at us, all right?" Dean finished cleaning his gun and reassembled it. "Let's just finish getting ready and head over there as soon as we can."

Sam finished cleaning his own gun then and reassembled it as well, "I'm hoping we can actually complete this job."

"Ready to go, kiddo?" Dean questioned.

"Not just yet," Sara answered, blushing a bit, still cleaning her weapon. Her father and uncle didn't press her to hurry, wanting her to learn the process first, knowing that speed would come with practice. If it had been a more serious case, Dean or Sam would have finished it for her, but since it wasn't too serious, they let her take her time.

* * *

Parked a several blocks away from the Mark Twain House, Sam nodded to Dean as a blue car pulled out of the driveway of the house and drove away. "Let's head in." Dean parked the Impala closer to the house, though not into its driveway, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. Opening up the trunk, Dean rummaged around until he pulled out another home-made EMF detector, handing it to Sara. Tossing Sam a sawed-off shotgun and grabbing one for himself, and closed the trunk.

With Dean leading the way, they headed inside once Sam picked the lock on the house, each of them turning on a flashlight. "We'll stick together. I know we're all safe from getting possessed, but we don't know how she's going to react once she realizes she can't get in."

"I think it will take us some time to even find her," Sam said quietly. "Especially if we're starting on the first floor."

"Or she can be standing at the end of the hall," Sara said, her flashlight already on the spirit of Susy Clemens, her EMF detector flashing.

Sam and Dean, who had been looking in the dining room turned around just in time to see Susy standing right in front of them, and the small child pushed them into the dining room, all four doors slamming shut just as they both fired their salt bullets.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, first trying to open the door before he slammed against it, trying to get it to open.

Sam tried to calm his brother, "Dean, let's just take a minute to thi-!"

"We don't have a minute!" Dean snapped, trying to get through a different door on the opposite end of the room, serving around the dining room table and chairs that were in his way. "That ghost is out there with Sara and God only knows what the hell is happening out there!"

A bit startled by his brother's show of worry about his daughter, Sam tried to open the other door in the room, ignoring the outside door. Dean would probably try it in a second anyway. Hearing another "Son of a bitch" and a different door getting slammed into, Sam knew his assumption had been correct.

* * *

A bit unnerved at being separated from her father and uncle, Sara kept her, now flickering, flashlight on Susy. "What do you want?"

"I want in," Susy stated.

Sara had a feeling that Susy didn't mean into her body, but into that one room, and she hoped to keep her talking, "Why?"

Susy blinked at her, the little girl's gaze looking a bit confused, and then upset, "I have to give Daddy something and I can't get into the room!"

"You do realize your dead right?" Sara questioned, adding, "All of your family is dead."

The spirit didn't seem to understand what Sara said, merely repeating, "I want in."

Sara tried a different approach, "I can get you in if you let my father and uncle out."

Susy shook her head, apparently understanding this time, "They won't let me in."

"What do you need to give your father?" Sara asked after a few minutes of silence.

Susy answered, "A gift, to let him know that I've missed him and that I didn't mean what I said…" She trailed off, lowering her head, and Sara wasn't sure she would continue until Susy added in a whisper, "I just want him to be proud of me." She lifted her head and gazed at Sara steadily, "I want in."

"Well you can't possess me," Sara stated, and she watched as the child's eyes hardened into rage, sending a chill up her spine, or perhaps that was just the temperature of the room dropping since she could see her breath. "But I can get you in." The temperature seemed to go up again, but not by much. "I know how you feel, wanting your father to be proud."

This seemed to appease Susy, since the dark expression left her face and she walked over to Sara and grabbed her wrist, half-guiding, half-dragging her up the stairs.

* * *

Dean and Sam were both focusing their attention on the main door that led back towards the staircase and where they knew Sara must be. The silence from the other room had both brothers worried that they were already too late to help her. They hadn't heard any shots fired, no screaming, no thuds, just…nothing, and that unnerved them more than anything.

Sam had a take a break, having been slamming against the door non-stop. Sitting in one of the chairs, he tried to get his brother's attention, "Dean!"

His brother didn't listen, merely continuing to ram the door, his jaw clenched and his green eyes blazing with fury or determination, Sam wasn't sure which one. Either way, he called out, a bit louder, "Dean!" When his brother continued to ram the door, Sam stood up and grabbed his shoulder before he could ram the door again, "Dean!"

"What?!" Dean demanded, turning his furious gaze on him.

Sam kept his tone as calm as possible, "We're not getting out of here. She sealed the room."

"So I'm just supposed to stop trying while my daughter is out there alone?" Dean shrugged off Sam's hand and rammed the door once again, and Sam caught a desperate look in his brother's eyes when he turned. _I think I've misjudged you a bit Dean…you really do care…_

* * *

Once upstairs, Susy led her to the bedroom door and said to Sara for the umpteenth time, "I want in."

"Yeah, yeah," Sara muttered, proving, once again, that she was definitely Dean's daughter.

Kneeling beside the door, she pulled out the lock-picking kit Bobby had given her before she'd left.

"What are you doing?" Susy demanded as Sara started to pick the lock.

"Trying to let you in," Sara stated, surprising calm considering that a ghost was holding her father and uncle hostage in the dining room downstairs while she tried to break into this locked bedroom across from the master bedroom.

"Why do you think your father's not proud of you?" Sara asked, buying for time. "I mean you wrote a biography about him, changed one of his books into a play. Why wouldn't he be proud of such a gifted daughter?"

Susy frowned at Sara, and she started to wonder if she'd been too obvious in attempt to stall for time. Apparently, she wasn't, since Susy answered, "I've been irritable, depressed, and ill. Not a daughter he has any reason to be proud of." The young girl pouted, eyes filling with tears. Sara was finding this experience with Susy to be not only disorienting, but she also felt sympathy for the young girl. Shaking her head, she reminded herself silently, _Susy is a young woman, which is just freaky that her ghost is a kid. I need to focus on this lock though, before she starts getting pissed again._

After a few more minutes, Susy gradually growing more agitated, the lock clicked, and Sara had barely turned the knob when Susy shoved her out of the way, and she went sliding a few feet on her stomach, her lock picking tools going everywhere. "You're welcome," she grouched, pushing herself up off the floor.

* * *

Slamming against the door, Dean swore for the thousandth time as it refused to budge, much less yield. Going back across the room, having shoved the tables and chairs up against the walls, he was obviously going for a running start. As Dean got ready to charge the door again, Sam heard a faint click from all the doors. "Dean!" He tried to warn his brother.

Too late, Dean charged at a full sprint, slamming into the unlocked door and taking it off its hinges as he and tit crashed into the hallway.

"It's open," Sam stated helpfully as he walked calmly out of the room.

Dean glared up at him from his position on the broken door, "No kidding!" He pushed himself up and took a quick look around before he snapped, "She's obviously not down here so let's get upstairs!"

Following his brother, both of them had their sawed-off shotguns ready as they moved as quickly as possible up the stairs without forgoing caution.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Dean turned the corner to go down the hall that contained the one bedroom. As soon as he spotted Sara and noticed that she was safe and sound, he stopped, becoming more wary, wondering where the spirit was.

Sam didn't hesitate to go to Sara and make sure she was okay, noticing all the items that had been thrown out of the room. "Hey! You all right?"

"Yeah," Sara answered, putting away her lock-picking tools. "I'm not sure what she's doing though, or even what she's looking for."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, having finally come over to make sure that Sara was all right.

Now Sam was frowning, _two seconds ago he was flinging himself against a door, and now he's acting like nothing happened! Damn it, Dean! Why can't you just show her that you care?!_

"She wanted something to give to her father," Sara answered her father. "She said it was in the room, which is why she kept saying that she wanted in. She didn't want in, as in possessing people. She wanted in this room."

A vase shattered as it was thrown against the wall, and Dean muttered, "It must be a pretty important gift!"

"To her, it is," Sara stated.

Dean's gaze had gone quickly over his daughter as soon as he'd been sure there was no true danger in the hallway and had walked over to her. He was relieved to see that she was okay, but he didn't let it show; especially not now. Not when the hunt wasn't finished. "So if we burn this item, that'll be the end of her?"

"Dad…" Sara knew she was about to get a scolding for what she was about to say, "Why don't we just let her give her gift to her father?"

Dean opened his mouth to say something when Sam stood up slowly, shotgun leveled. He turned as well, leveling his own shotgun, ready to fire, since the items were no longer being thrown out of the bedroom. He walked slowly forward until he stood next to his brother, ready for Susy to come out of the room.

_Son of a bitch!_ Sara thought, before she rushed forward as she spotted the tip of Susy's black hair bow, she grabbed both muzzles of her father and uncle's shotguns, startling them both enough that they immediately lowered their weapons, their salt bullets going into the floor. While she managed to meet her uncle's slightly angry, but more curious gaze, she didn't dare meet her father's, knowing that he was probably pissed.

Sam frowned at Sara, wondering what had gotten into his niece, _she's knows better than to do something so foolish…what happened while we were in that dining room? _He kept his shotgun lowered, watching the white dress of Susy disappear into the master bedroom.

Pissed was not the word to describe Dean's current mood, but he decided he'd lecture his daughter later. Following Susy through the now open door into the master bedroom, he felt Sara grab his arm to keep him from firing his shotgun. Glaring at her for a second, though his daughter wouldn't meet his gaze, he looked into the room, and he lost all intention of firing the shotgun.

Coming in behind his brother and niece, Sam wondered why they didn't move out of the doorway, but he soon saw why.

The master bedroom was lit up bright as day, the green and yellow pattern of the wall was illuminated, even the fireplace near the door was bathed in the light. The source of the light sat on the hand carved bed Susy stood in front of it, and once their eyes adjusted to the light, they could see Samuel Clemens, or Mark Twain, sitting on the bed, his bushy white hair and mustache easily recognizable. His expression was warm and welcoming; though it was clear his focus was on his daughter.

Susy's back was too them, blocking their view of what she gave him, but Mark Twain gave her a smile and wrapped her in a hug, and Susy aged before their very eyes into a twenty-four year old young woman. As her father disappeared from sight, the room becoming very dark, they were all left blinking, trying to get used to the sudden lack of light.

Sara jumped as she heard a voice near her ear say as soft as a whisper, "May you always keep your youth…"

Dean and Sam leveled their shotguns again as Susy stood in front of them, but before they could fire any shots, she started to fade, and she said softly, "I'll be going now." Susy faded completely from sight.

Turning around to face Sam, Dean asked, "What just happened?"

"I think she moved on," Sam said. "Granted…I'm really not sure."

"Great," Dean muttered moodily.

"Seems like our job is done though," Sam reasoned. "Susy got what she wanted and gave it to the person, well, spirit, that she needed to. Even if she isn't gone-gone, she won't be causing any more problems."

"We can't just half-ass the job, Sam!" Dean snapped.

"Well we can't finish it here either," Sam countered. "If you really want to finish this we have to head to New York then!"

The brothers glared at each other for a few seconds, and Sara, still trying to avoid looking at her father asked quietly, "Can we leave then?"

"Yeah," Dean said and Sam nodded, glad that his brother seemed to be seeing sense as he led the way out of the room.

Sara made to follow her uncle, when her father grabbed her shoulder, "Sara." She knew she was in trouble just from his tone. Glancing over her shoulder, it took all her will power to meet his gaze. He obviously wasn't pleased, but she knew that he could be a lot angrier with her. She'd seen him angrier.

"You're not getting out of this without a lecture," Dean stated. "I want to talk with you once we're at the hotel, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Sara answered.

Dean released her shoulder and followed her down the stairs and out of the house. He made sure to leave quite a bit of money in the donation jar hoping to pay for at least some of the damages done to the house.

* * *

A half hour later, Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot and glanced in the rearview mirror, sighing half in exasperation, half in defeat. His daughter was sound asleep in the back seat and he really didn't have the heart to wake her up. He and Sam got out of the car at the same time, and while Sam went straight into the hotel, Dean opened up the driver's side back door and he gently lifted his daughter out. "I'll lecture you tomorrow."

After following Sam into the room and placing Sara on the bed, he headed back outside. He wasn't quite ready to rest, a lot of things were on his mind, mainly this hunt though and what they needed to do.

* * *

Sara woke up in the middle of the night, and she couldn't even explain why she was awake. Looking around groggily, the last thing she remembered was being in the Impala. Then it dawned on her that her father had wanted to speak with her after the hunt, _crap!_ Hopping out of the bed, which she realized was pretty odd, since she'd been sleeping on the chair; she left the room and hurried outside.

She spotted her father right away; Dean was leaning against the driver's side door of the Impala, gazing out at the road, or perhaps something even further.

Timidly, Sara approached, unsure if her father was upset with her or not. She made sure to make plenty of noise so as to not startle him.

Dean glanced over his shoulder, "You can come over here. I'm not mad at you."

"You were mad at the Mark Twain House," Sara muttered as she leaned against the hood of the Impala, trying to keep some distance between herself and her, possibly, still angry father.

Pushing away from the Impala, Dean walked over to Sara and stood in front of her, "I'm still upset with what you did." Sara lowered her gaze, and Dean continued, "Not only was what you did foolish, but if you didn't grab those shotguns in the right spot, you could have lost your hands or had some serious injuries to them! Not to mention we now have to figure out if we just let it slide that we half-assed this job, or if we go to New York and burn those bodies! Not just of Susy, but of Mark Twain as well since it's clear his spirit is in that house too!"

"You always say 'finish what you start'," Sara said quietly.

Dean frowned, "That's another thing. You acted like you didn't want us to harm Susy, yet you know how dangerous spirits can be."

"I guess I just knew how she felt," Sara said quietly, still avoiding his gaze.

"What do you mean?" Dean questioned as he sat down next to her on the hood of the Impala.

"She just wanted her father to be proud of her, and she thought that whatever she gave to her father would make him proud," Sara answered, refusing to look at Dean.

He sighed, before he said, "Well then, if that's all that was about."

Sara looked up at him, confused.

"Here I am scolding you when you knew more about what was going on than me and Sammy put together," Dean chuckled. "I guess we won't go to New York…why split up a family, right?"

Something in her father's voice made her look up, and the look in his eyes caused her to stay silent. Whatever the look was though, it was gone in a flash and Dean stood up, "Come on, kiddo, let's head inside." Sara got off the car and started to follow him when Dean paused and looked over his shoulder at her, "Sara, what did you mean when you said you knew how Susy felt?"

"I guess…" Sara found that she really didn't want to answer, but once again, her promise to her father to not lie stayed off any thought of lying to him or bending the truth, "I want you to be proud of me, Dad…I guess…I guess I'm just not very good at it though…" She added silently, _since I keep screwing up on hunts…_

Dean stood still while Sara reluctantly caught up with him, and that's when he put his arm around her and pressed her against his side, a brief one armed hug. Sara sighed, glad that her father didn't seem angry with her anymore, and he didn't seem disappointed in her either. Reluctantly, she said, "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"There's something else…" Her father gazed at her, waiting for her to continue. "Susy said to me before she appeared in the room that I should 'always keep my youth'…do you know what that means?"

"No," Dean answered. "Try asking your uncle in the morning. You know he's more into those kinds of things then I am."

"All right," Sara answered, and she noticed her father smile a bit as he held open the hotel door for her.

Once they were back in the room, Sara walked towards the recliner when Dean said, "You can sleep in the bed tonight, kiddo. I'll take the chair." When she made to protest, Dean sat down in the chair and smirked, "Go get some sleep, Sara."

Reluctantly, Sara got into the bed and crawled under the covers, "Night, Dad."

"Night," Dean said.

Sara added quietly, "I love you."

Dean smiled, though Sara couldn't see it in the dark, "I love you too, kiddo. Now get some sleep."

He sat in the chair for quite some time, listening to his daughter's breathing until it eventually slowed, signifying that she was asleep. Getting up, Dean walked over and kissed her forehead, "I am proud of you, kiddo."


End file.
